Special Investigations Division: Twilight
by Loki's Son
Summary: The SID team is surrounded on all sides and fighting for their lives. Only the help of unexpected allies can save them.
1. Chapter 1

16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. All such rights and considerations belong to CBS/Paramount.**

**This is the twelfth SID installment. I hope you enjoy because more is on the way!**

* * *

Hal Dracas came off of his shift at Starfleet Intelligence's Special Project Yards. He waited in the queue for a ride on a shuttle back to Earth. An hour later, he'd made the commute from Mars to Earth. He'd landed in San Francisco and headed for the nearest transporter station to spirit him away to Soho, where he lived.

He was met at the transporter facility's door by two armed Starfleet Security officers, "Master Chief Hal Dracas?"

"Yes?" Dracas replied to the older officer that had asked the question.

"I'm afraid you must come with us, Chief." the officer requested.

"Why?" Dracas asked, "What am I suspected of?"

"I don't know the particulars, Chief. You'd have to ask these gentlemen."

From behind Dracas, four burly, uniformed security agents moved up to take position. They were Troglyte United Clan Police. With all avenues of escape blocked, Dracas surrendered.

"Come with us, Deviant." the lead Police officer commanded as he placed binders on Dracas' wrists.

"I'm only considered a deviant by narrow minded officials back home." Dracas replied, "I'm accepted here."

"Their shame is not ours." the policeman retorted, "Our honour is intact and you will be punished for your unnatural acts."

"I still have the right of trial before the clans." Dracas insisted.

"Your punishment was decided before we left Ardanna." the officer informed him, "You are going to die the death of the long knives."

Dracas remained silent, pondering the brutal nature of his sentence.

* * *

At Dracas' Soho flat, his boyfriend, Kiv Rever relaxed and prepared to watch the evening news. He was on furlough from the cruise line he worked for and was anticipating Dracas' return. Then the lead story of the news opened with a Starfleet officer getting arrested by Ardannian Troglyte Police. They had a picture of Dracas shown with a snippet from his personnel jacket.

Rever knew what he had to do, he had to get to Barrinor and alert Dracas' former commanding officer, Brin Macen. Macen ran a privateer firm out of Barrinor. Dracas had hinted that he was really an agent for a top secret division of Starfleet Intelligence. Whatever the rumours might be, Rever knew from Dracas' stories that Macen was extremely loyal to his officers and crew.

Rever was counting on that sense of loyalty to help Dracas in his hour of need. He just had to get to Barrinor. There was no direct route there since the recent upheavals that nearly toppled the Federation. In order to avoid two week's worth of travel, Rever would have to charter a flight. Fortunately, Rever had heard of a man that didn't ask too many questions and always delivered his cargo. He immediately set out to find the good captain and hire him.

* * *

Five days later it was the evening of the Grand Ball in the capital of Barrinor. As a capitalistic society, Barrinor favoured its wealthy citizens and tonight was the favourite event of the elite. Brin Macen and T'Kir were attending as the owners of Outbound Ventures, Inc. The company had brought a great deal of trade Barrinor's way and the invitations were the locals way of thanking the couple for the good press.

For all its rebellious spirit and progressive measures, Barrinor was highly conservative at heart. This was reflected in the dress code for the Grand Ball. Men wore their finest suits and woman their most spectacular gowns. T'Kir had had a gown made just for the occasion.

Since the dress code spanned the width and breadth of the Federation and beyond, her selection was entirely up to her. Once again, as in her wedding, she chose an Ikebana kimono. This one was sapphire blue with black embroidery to set off her crystal blue eyes. Included were black silken slippers.

She wore her raven hair shortened tonight, highlighting her elegantly curved, elfin ears. The top and bangs were long, covering her eyes but swept back by a jewelled hairband. The back was short, ending at the nape of her neck. It was a look reminiscent of when the couple first met.

Her generous mouth puckered at the sight of all the competing dancers on the floor. She and Macen had practiced ballroom dancing but they were beginners at best. T'Kir's competitive nature demanded that she be the best at every enterprise she undertook. That would be an impossibility tonight.

Macen sensed her mood and squeezed her hand reassuringly. The El-Aurian was competitive as well but knew when to concede defeat. He would dance for the sheer joy of it not for recognition. After a brief chat with his wife, she agreed to do the same.

Macen wore a suit of the finest Bajoran fibres. Barrinor was only a sector away from Bajor and Macen preferred to support his poorer neighbour when he could. Besides, the Bajoran textiles industry was second to none. Their natural fibres could be homespun or transformed into the most elegant attire…and it was exceptionally comfortable. Bajor's Vedeks and the wealthy had known of these properties for millennia.

Macen's suit consisted of Charcoal grey wools. His Venetian collared shirt was a dark turquoise that enhanced his eyes. His Starfleet issue boots and belt were black. Unbeknownst to the Ball officials, Macen wore his phaser in a shoulder holster and T'Kir retained hers in her silk handbag.

Barrinor was lenient towards personal firearms. Most of the citizenry was armed. Where the law stiffened was that only the stun setting of phasers was allowed. Disruptors were illegal. Both Macen and T'Kir had their Bajoran Militia surplus phasers set on maximum stun.

Macen's phaser bore an engraved L for "Laren". Macen had named his phaser for Ro Laren, claiming the two were the only friends that had never let him down. T'Kir found this amusing and let it pass unchallenged. She didn't rank amongst the infallible since she'd once tried to kill Macen.

Macen and T'Kir met during their time with the Maquis. Macen had been sent to infiltrate Ro Laren's cell and T'Kir was already a member. Macen had confessed the purpose behind his recruitment and became a double agent working for both Starfleet and the Maquis. For Ro's cell, he created a top-flight intelligence unit. T'Kir was assigned to that unit.

Macen's involvement capped off ten years at the front of the Border Wars with the Cardassians. T'Kir had joined when her home colony of Shial had had every man, woman, and child slaughtered by the Cardassians. The colony was comprised of Sybokian Vulcans and defected Romulans. It did not fall easily. The entire 5th Order had become involved by the end.

The grief and rage felt by T'Kir released her latent telepathic abilities and she soon became capable of reading minds throughout an entire sector. Her inability to shut these "voices" out led to her ever increasing instability. Macen became a lifeline of sorts because she couldn't read his thoughts unless he allowed it. Fed up with T'Kir's erratic behaviours, Ro transferred the Vulcan to Macen's command.

There was an instant, visceral attraction between the two but Macen had been in a relationship with another undercover Starfleet officer, Lisea Danan. Both of them denied their feelings until after the Dominion War. Macen's relationship with Danan had been terminated for some time and T'Kir had come to grips with her feelings. Now she merely waited for Macen to come to the same conclusions.

That moment came during his captivity in the gladiatorial pits of Nova Roma on the quarantined planet of 492 IV. The couple's reunion had been something to behold. They'd been a couple ever since. After six years as lovers, they married and things were proceeding apace despite bumps along the road.

The duo loved to argue and banter with one another. Sometimes these encounters went too far and feelings were hurt. Fortunately, Macen's mild empathic abilities and T'Kir's powerful, but heavily medicated, telepathy had fused to form a permanent telepathic rapport between the pair. Much to T'Kir's chagrin, Macen could still block her probes but he rarely chose to do so. T'Kir's medication kept the universe at bay.

An early bone of contention that had long since been resolved was Macen's decision to allow Lisea Danan to rejoin the SID team after an absence. Danan, like the rest of the team, had showed unwavering loyalty to Macen and had remained on as his crew after Starfleet ceased employing privateers. Now they all had their commissions or brevet ranks restored and were the senior officers of the _Nova_-class surveyor, the _SS Obsidian_.

The shipyards decision to start producing civilian model _Novas_ had enabled Starfleet to "sell" Outbound Ventures, Inc a starship with all of its Starfleet specifications intact. The Special Projects Yards had even redesigned the warp nacelles, allowing the ship to exceed warp 8. The SPYards had also enhanced the shields and the sensor pallets. The ship was now an ideal investigative platform. Only the weapons systems had remained untouched.

Macen's irreverence toward rank and protocol filtered down to the lowest levels of the crew. Although a Commander in Starfleet, Macen was the Captain. His word was law aboard the mini-nation that comprised the ship. Tom Riker was the Executive Officer or XO. Rab Daggit was the Tactical 1st. T'Kir was the OPS Specialist and Lisea Danan was the Sciences Specialist. Hannah Grace was the Lead Pilot, the Klingon, Kort, was _the _Doctor, not the EMH, and Parva was the Chief Engineer. Radil Jenrya was the Chief of Security. Everyone else had titles made up for them by their Department heads.

T'Kir stopped entering the Grand Ballroom and whistled. Macen followed her gaze and had to admit what she was marvelling was stunning. Suspended fifteen metres in the air was a massive chandelier. The marvel of the thing was that it wasn't hung, it literally floated in mid-air.

Discreetly mounted antigrav generators in the ceiling kept the crystalline beauty afloat. Propulsor units rotated the chandelier so that it caught the spotlights mounted alongside the antigrav units. It was a floating jewel that sparkled like a perfect cut diamond.

Above the chandelier was a domed skylight composed of pure leaded crystal. The weather outside was inclement so the sheets of rain could be seen cascading down the dome's sides. The ceiling and walls of the great room were panelled in the finest fabrics from across the quadrant. They were interwoven to create an opulent pattern.

The floor contained concentric patterns composed of the most exotic hardwoods latinum could buy. The floor was sealed yearly in order to prevent environmental harm and damage from use. People from across three sectors attended. It was the greatest gathering of the affluent and influential to be found in the vicinity of Bajor.

Macen led T'Kir into the ballroom. Off to one side was a buffet table. The tables were made if duranium and as hardened as a starship's hull. It was another ostentatious display.

Fresh foodstuffs of every description were located on the tables. At the end of the tables was a full service bar. One of the rules of the ball was sobriety but synthahol was banned. It was a test of self-restraint.

Life on Barrinor was a series of tests. The planet had required decades of terraforming in order to be habitable by humanoids. It had been a test of wills considering the proximity of Earth style M-class worlds. That same sense of will and purpose permeated daily life on the colony.

The colony had separated itself from the Federation following the Border Wars and the DMZ treaty. The Federation's Colonial Office had angered Barrinorians by constantly advising them to abandon their terraforming efforts. The handover of Federation worlds to the Cardassians was the final straw. The citizens of Barrinor had no intention of becoming the next sacrificial lambs.

That proud spirit of self-sufficiency affected every facet of life on Barrinor. They had a self developed defence force. The arming of the citizenry was only the first step. Only the young and the infirmed were exempt from Barrinor's military reserve. Universal conscription kept the ranks of the spaceforce and the ground forces swelled. Volunteers were encouraged to stay on and form the basis of the officer corps.

Macen and T'Kir stepped onto the dance floor and began a traditional waltz but T'Kir soon tired of that so they shifted to a Bajoran _honelee_. It was like Irish figure dancing. Others took note and joined in. Soon the entire ballroom was filled with _honelee_ dancers as the band shifted its style.

The dance judges were beside themselves. Macen and T'Kir shifted to a freeform style of _honelee_ and began throwing in proper Irish figure dancing. The music notched up to a lively step and the crowd went wild. They began line dances and partner exchange routines.

The judges surrounded Macen and T'Kir and demanded that they leave the floor. Any other couple that continued with the proscribed style of dance was also asked to leave the floor. Twenty or so couple left but the rest resumed the allowed waltzing.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted." T'Kir sighed.

"We definitely changed the rules for a while." Macen laughed and looked up to view the chandelier and skylight. That's when he saw a shadow move behind the skylight.

"Get down!" he yelled as he grabbed T'Kir and got her to the ground and covered her body with his. Seconds later, the skylight exploded. The shockwave unbalanced the antigrav generators and the chandelier came crashing down on half a dozen paralysed revellers.

Macen already had his phaser out when the first ropes descended from the gaping hole in the roof and six humanoids repelled to the floor below. It took them a moment to gain their footing in the piles of broken crystal and bodies. Macen fired from a crouch and struck the closest masked and armoured figure. The others began firing into the crowd and at him.

Macen ducked and rolled under the buffet table and then came up on one knee and fired again. Once again he struck down another assailant. Meanwhile, T'Kir had rolled under the tables and was now making her way to the coat and bag check-in. Ducking into the diminutive room, she ignored the cowering check-in girl and shrugged off her kimono. Revealed underneath were a pair of silken "pyjamas". Next she found her handbag and pulled her phaser free from it. Hefting it in her left hand, she set out to stop this terrorist attack.

Macen had tipped over one of the duranium tables and was using it as cover. All of the attackers' energies were now focused on him. There were only three left standing and T'Kir decided to even up the odds. She fired, stunning yet another terrorist and took off at a dead run for Macen's position.

She slid into place beside him, "Miss me?"

"Terribly." Macen replied, "You have a clue as to why this is happening?"

"No." she admitted, "D'you?"

"You're the telepath. Read some minds." Macen suggested.

T'Kir's recently enlarged dose of medication limited her to an effective range of the size of the ballroom. They'd experimented with gradually lessening her doses but she'd suffered a breakdown and was once again at the maximum proscribed dosage. One benefit, or a negative depending on how you looked at it, was that she seriously had to concentrate to kill someone with her mind now.

T'Kir shuffled off to the left of the table and Macen took the right. Now both of them could use their strong hands to shoot around the corners of the table. T'Kir surprised one of the attackers and stunned him. Macen shot the last one but she remained upright.

The only humanoid species that Macen knew could shrug off a heavy stun blast was an augmented Angosian. Rab Daggit was just such a creature and he'd shared many of his kinds' secrets with his Captain. Macen reset his phaser to medium disrupt while T'Kir vaulted over the table and disarmed the attacker with a backspin kick. The Angosian dropped into a fighting crouch and waited for T'Kir's next parry.

Instead, Macen stood and shot her squarely in the chest, "Get anything?"

T'Kir shrugged, "Some reference to Solarian Security Systems. Nothing tangible though. She was pretty focused on the fight. I can tell you this is our old friend Annika Ryst."

"I thought she was serving time in some penitentiary on Angosia." Macen confessed.

"Apparently she got out." T'Kir deadpanned.

Annika Ryst was a name neither of them had ever wanted to hear again. The former super-soldier had turned mercenary and had aided in the capture of the pair on their honeymoon for an Orion crime lord named Daveed B'nner. B'nner's subsequent death had left Ryst without an employer. She'd found a new one in the form of Macen and T'Kir's former comrade in arms, Aric Tulley.

Tulley had reformed and reorganised the Maquis. This time, instead of fighting a strictly guerrilla war, he aimed for a terrorist campaign. The Cardassians hired Macen to locate and apprehend Tulley. Macen succeeded in the first part of the mission but was circumvented in the second part by the intervention of a powerful alien race known as the Omicrons. Macen had only survived the encounter thanks to a timely rescue by the extragalactic Kelvans.

Ryst had been captured as had a Maquis lieutenant named Deirdre Armstrong. Deirdre had been liberated from a penal colony by Tulley himself. Ryst, on the other hand, had been sentenced to a prison facility on Angosia's moon. It had previously housed the augmented soldiers that Angosia did not know what to do with for a decade. Apparently, as before, she'd escaped.

Given her past history and her rancour towards Macen and T'Kir, they were, in all likelihood, the evening's targets. The question was, if these were indeed employees of Solarian Security Systems, why would they be targeting Macen and T'Kir? More to the point, why would they risk their letter of marque in such an overt attack? The SSS was a privateer company like Outbound Ventures, a competitor in fact. Would the Solarians push the limits of competition to include direct violence?

There were too many questions and not enough answers. T'Kir couldn't engage a mind probe while they were unconscious and all of their attackers were stunned. Macen would've given his left arm at that moment for a hypospray filled with a stimulant.

"Freeze!" came a shouted command from behind the couple, "Put down your weapons."

"No, you idiot!" rang out the voice of the planet's Police Commissioner, "They're innocent. They saved our lives. The suspects are stunned and on the floor."

Macen and T'Kir cautiously turned around to see a dozen members of Barrinor's Hostage Rescue Team. The HRT was the best of the best drawn from every precinct. It had been created to combat the tendency of Barrinor's wealthy to be kidnapped and held for ransom. In its hundred-year history, the HRT had successfully brought out scores of hostages unharmed and lost only a handful. The unit was so good at their job that kidnappings were mostly a relic of the past.

"Are you certain?" the Captain of the HRT asked.

"Yes." the Commissioner nodded, "In light of the extenuating circumstances, I'm certain we can forgo arresting these fine people and ignore the usual fine for carrying weapons into the Grand Ballroom."

"Yessir." The Captain snapped off a healthy salute when the planetary prime minister came up behind the Commissioner and nodded.

"Do what the man says, Captain." the PM instructed.

"May I make a request?" Macen asked as he approached the triad.

"Name it." the Prime Minister answered.

"I'd like my people to sit in on the interrogations of these individuals, if at all possible."

"I'm sure that can be arranged, can't it Commissioner?"

"Of course. See to it, Captain."

The HRT captain looked as though he were eating something very sour but he nodded, "We'll begin at 09:00 tomorrow morning."

"Perfect." Macen said, "Now what about the casualties?"

The Emergency Response teams were racing into the building and treating wounds, severe and mild. Those under the chandelier when it fell were dead, as were another eight patrons gunned down by the potential assassins. Others bore disruptor burns or cuts from shattering crystal shards.

"We'll do all we can, Commander Macen." The PM assured him.

"Wait a minute, _the _Commander Macen, captain of the _Obsidian_?" The HRT Captain enquired.

"Yes." Macen replied simply.

"You and your personnel are welcome to assist our investigation however you choose." the Captain assured him.

"I think for now, we've done all we can." Macen told him, "My wife and I will transmit complete reports of what transpired here before morning."

"Of course." The Captain stammered, "That would be most kind. I don't want to detain you any further."

Macen and T'Kir excused themselves and made their way to the coatroom. It was deserted now. The check-in girl was being interviewed by a local police officer supporting the HRT investigation. They gathered their belongings, including T'Kir's kimono, and vacated the building. It was still raining outside so they signalled for a ground car to pick them up.

* * *

T'Kir threw back the hood of her leather slicker as she entered her and Macen's flat. Macen came in behind, his head and face soaked,

"Told ya you should've worn something with a hood." T'Kir scolded him.

Macen stripped off his flight jacket, "At least this is waterproof and at least my pants are water resistant."

"Sure, rub it in why don'cha?" T'Kir mouthed off as she bustled off to change out of her sodden pants.

Macen passed by the office/study and activated the lights. He wanted to finish his report for the police as swiftly as possible. That was when he noticed that both the computers were displaying the comm screen. Someone had tried, repetitively and unsuccessfully, to reach someone in this flat. Macen checked the sender's terminal ID and was surprised to find that it was Christine Pike's desk back at Outbound Ventures' headquarters.

Pike was a former Starfleet administration officer who now ran Macen's corporate interests and served as their liaison with Starfleet's Special Investigations Division. Macen wondered if the SID Director, Admiral Amanda Drake had another burr under her saddle as he opened a connection with Pike's terminal.

Pike's mahogany face sagged in relief when she saw Macen, "Brin! Thank God! I've been trying to reach you for two hours."

"I've been at the Grand Ball, Chris. Had quite the evening."

"The holovid news reports are starting to come in now." Pike admitted, "Are you and T'Kir all right?"

"Never better." T'Kir said as she entered the room wearing loose sweatpants and a pullover hoodie, "Why? What's up?"

"Hal Dracas has been arrested." Pike announced.

"For what?" Macen laughed.

"For moral deviancy." Pike answered, "He was picked up by Troglyte authorities five days ago on Earth. They've taken him back to Ardanna IV."

"What's Starfleet doing about it?" T'Kir demanded, "Sitting around with their thumbs up their collective…

"Ardanna is outside of the Federation." Pike reminded the couple, "The Prime Directive forbids them from interfering."

"Didn't stop James Kirk." Macen replied bitterly.

"Times have changed since Kirk's era. Now he'd be court-martialled."

"We'll go." Macen decided, "It won't be an SID mission. It'll be an Outbound Ventures' rescue of a former employee. We'll cover the costs."

Pike knew the reasoning behind Macen's decision. Dracas was under a death sentence. Homosexual Troglytes like Dracas were put to death by their clan. His only hope of reprieve was escape and the _Obsidian _and her crew were the likeliest means of escape.

"Put out the recall, Chris." Macen instructed, "I want the crew ready to sail at 09:00."

"Yes, sir." Pike acknowledged and signed off.

"There goes our interrogations." T'Kir said.

"Can't be helped." Macen replied, "Hal's life is worth more. We'll put in a request for transcripts when we send in our reports."

"We're _still _sending in reports?" T'Kir complained.

"Pull up a seat and get busy. The sooner we finish the sooner we can pack and get some sleep."

"What sleep?" T'Kir groused.

"I thought Vulcans could go for days without sleep, just relying on meditation." Macen teased.

"I prefer sleep." T'Kir said with finality but got busy on her computer working on the required report.


	2. Chapter 2

36

Macen was walking a tightrope when it came to the planned rescue of Hal Dracas. While he operated under a Federation letter of marque, making him a privateer, his sole client was Starfleet's SID. His crew's Starfleet commissions had been reactivated in order to further legitimise their activities. It also brought a measure of control over Macen's operational habits.

The other five ships of Outbound Ventures could take whatever clients the head office deemed worthy. This usually involved convoy escort duties but also the occasional security job protecting high profile entities. Each ship's captain possessed a letter of marque but only Macen had letters from the Federation and Starfleet.

The first letter compelled him to protect the interests and well being of the Federation. The second allowed him to participate in Starfleet operations. Since Starfleet was sanctioning this adventure, it would be deemed a rogue operation and could very well cost Macen everything.

Macen had gambled with his Starfleet career twice before. He'd jeopardised a seventy-plus year career to join the Maquis and an eighty year career in a court-martial for disobeying a superior officer and destroying an enemy vessel. Both times Starfleet Intelligence had vindicated him. The first time, he'd simply been reinstated with all sins forgiven. The second event had launched his career as a privateer at the SID's behest.

His entire investigative team had resigned from Starfleet and followed him, at least those that had been Starfleet officers. T'Kir and the Bajoran mercenary, Radil Jenrya, had been exceptions to the rule. Hal Dracas had been a member of the team back then. He'd served for three years and was entitled to this risk. The decision having been made, Macen set out to insure its success.

* * *

Telrik, the Tellarite transporter chief for the _Obsidian _beamed Macen and T'Kir aboard, "Welcome aboard, Cap'n!" Telrik was without a doubt the cheeriest Tellarite either Macen or T'Kir had ever met. He was also the most agreeable member of his species anyone had encountered. In fact, he'd left Starfleet for Outbound Ventures to escape people trying to pick fights with him.

"Good to be back, Telrik." Macen replied.

"Heard about that business at the Grand Ball. Glad to see you both came out all right." Telrik chortled, "Better'n all right I'd say, you're planetary heroes."

Seeing the couple's incredulous looks, Telrik shrugged, "That's what the holovids say at any rate."

"Just keep on believin' `em." T'Kir urged, "I've always wanted t'be a hero. That's why I'm attracted to lost causes." With the last, she playfully shoved Macen.

Macen ruefully grinned, "All right, let's stow our gear and meet 'n greet the others."

"Commander Riker is aboard but none of the rest of the senior staff have boarded yet."

"Thanks Telrik." Macen acknowledged and stepped out of the transporter and headed for the turbolift in order to reach the deck where his shared quarters were.

* * *

After stowing their gear, they proceeded to the bridge. Thomas William Riker was there already. The ship's XO was chipper and eager to get underway. The difference in attire between the three was startling. Macen had never established a uniform code for the senior staff but the ratings generally wore coveralls.

Macen wore his prerequisite grey crew neck tee with black cargo pants. He accessorised with his holster/utility belt and black combat boots. His reddish blonde hair was short enough that it tended to spike along the part. His moustache and goatee were worn full but neatly trimmed.

T'Kir wore her usual leather pants and black tank top. The tank top revealed the IDIC tattoo on her arm. That still left the Romulan Imperial Emblem stretched across her back and the Maquis Command symbol on her ankle hidden by her clothes. She wore mid-calf high combat boots and her left-handed holster/utility belt.

T'Kir wore her bangs pulled to one side and her raven hair tacked back behind her ears. She adorned her lips with red lipstick. Varieties of lipstick were a recent discovery of hers, introduced to her by her best friend Hannah Grace. T'Kir's natural olive complexion didn't require artificial enhancements. Her subtle green blush provided colour enough.

Riker wore his hair neatly trimmed but bushier on top. Like Macen's it tended to spike. His beard was fuller than his "brother's" but still neatly trimmed. He wore the closest thing to a uniform. It was based upon Earth Starfleet's first uniform, a navy jumpsuit with a black undershirt. The colour accentuated his blue eyes and distracted from the spreading grey in his beard.

"How are you, Tom?" Macen asked as he exited the turbolift.

"Better than you if the newsies got it right."

"Oh, we're fine." T'Kir pooh-pahhed, "Our would be assassins took the worst of it, including Annika Ryst."

"How'd she get out of prison?" Riker said with some alarm.

"The same way someone escapes a Cardassian labour camp." Macen remarked, "With help."

Riker blushed at that reference of his accepting a ride from a Romulan shuttle pilot breaking out Romulan prisoners. Riker reminisced, about the supposed "cost" for his liberty. Fortunately that plan had failed and Riker had found himself completely free from outside interference. That is until Brin Macen showed up at his charter shuttle service and offered a Tom a command and a job.

Tom had lost two commands now and had opted to act as Macen's XO, "So what's the mission?"

"We're going to rescue Hal Dracas." Macen replied grimly.

"Why?" Riker was confused. Dracas was among the most law-abiding men he'd ever met.

Macen explained the situation and Riker darkened with rage, "That's barbaric."

"It's also a local custom of a non-aligned world so Starfleet won't interfere." Macen explained.

"So we're doing this on our own initiative." Riker nodded approvingly, "Can we afford it?"

"The corporate emergency funds should suffice. Anything beyond that T'Kir and I'll cover." Macen informed him.

"Put me in for a share." Riker offered.

Macen smiled, "Hopefully it won't come to that."

"'Hopefully' and reality are usually a parsec apart with this ship and crew." Riker reminded Macen.

Macen was about to comment when the lift doors opened. Hannah Grace barrelled out and fiercely hugged T'Kir. Rab Daggit and Parva exited far more sedately. The Angosian and the Orion were the most muscular couple on the ship.

Rab wore a uniform based upon the M.A.C.O. fatigues of the 22nd century. Parva, however, was dressing for effect. She wore a halter-top with a beaded miniskirt with a slit up one side. The slit revealed the fact that she was travelling sans underwear. Despite seven years of freedom, at heart Parva was still an Orion sex slave.

Daggit mirrored Riker's towering height. Macen was tall but he was three inches shorter than these titans' 6'4". T'Kir was five inches shorter than Macen and Parva was six inches shorter than Daggit. That left Grace standing there at 5'5", the shortest member of the team.

Kort and Radil were next to arrive. As usual, Kort wore Klingon battle armour but without a baldric to denote his shame. Radil also wore M.A.C.O. fatigues but without the camouflage shirt, preferring a Bajoran bush jacket. Everyone wore their sidearms and utility belts.

Macen called for them to all enter his Ready Room. It was a tight fit. Macen took a seat behind the desk. T'Kir and Grace took the couch. Parva seated herself in the sole visitor's chair. Daggit, Riker, Radil and Kort spread across the room and stood. There was some confusion evident on their faces.

"You're all wondering why I've called you in here instead of the main briefing room." It was a statement not a question, "The answer is simple, when you hear the details of our next mission, you're going to be upset. You'll be angry, frustrated and worried. I don't want the crew to see you that way. Therefore we'll spend as long as it takes in here to clear those feelings."

"What is our mission?" Kort came straight to the point.

"As a select handful of you already know, our mission is the rescue and extraction of Hal Dracas from Ardanna IV." Macen explained.

"Rescue from what?" Radil asked, "Ardanna is his home planet."

"It's also the most dangerous spot in the whole galaxy for Hal." Macen elaborated, "Troglyte customs are very ancient and very clannish. It is their practice to kill all homosexual males or females within the clan. Someone tipped the Ardannian officials off that Hal is a homosexual and the Troglytes responded by dispatching a retrieval squad. Hal currently faces a death sentence. It may have already been carried out."

Shock quickly transmuted into outrage with Radil leading the charge, "And aliens accused the Bajorans of atrocities because we killed collaborators. That's nothing like this. Certain orders of the Bajoran faith won't allow homosexuals to worship with them but there's always those that are willing so it's no big loss."

"Among the Klingons, such people are outcasts unless they can prove their mettle in battle," Kort added, "but they are not persecuted or slain."

"It's unheard of among the Kelvans so I don't know how they'd react." Grace admitted as the resident Kelvan.

"They're human now." Riker said, "It'll happen."

"Even Vulcans have a very small minority." T'Kir revealed, "They've got greater numbers than the surviving Sybokians but they're considered illogical as well."

"Are they considered anathema as well?" Macen asked.

T'Kir shook her head, "Just misguided. They still follow the precepts of Surak, unlike a follower of Sybok."

"So how goes the quest for Sha-Ka-Ree?" Grace teased.

"Sha-Ka-Ree is an internal value not an external value. Sybok was fooled by the entity beyond the Great Barrier on that one." T'Kir replied.

"Can we focus on the issue at hand?" Riker demanded, "What the Troglytes are planning is barbaric and cruel. They have to be stopped."

"Do they?" Parva asked, "Except for our sense of loyalty to the Chief, would we even be considering this?"

"No." Macen admitted to everyone's surprise, "This practice has gone on for millennia and this is the first time an outsider has interfered. If it weren't for Hal, I'm not certain I'd break the Prime Directive on this one. Because that's what it's going to take and I can't even guess what the consequences of that will be."

"On Orion, an overtly homosexual male or female is set aside for acts that involve pain and humiliation. An Orion male may involve himself in sodomy only after he's forced himself on several women and even then only for those acts I alluded to earlier." Parva divulged, "I don't see how Chief Dracas' situation is any worse than that."

"The preferred method of death is to be stretched out on a rack, publicly castrated and then to slowly die as your intestines are removed and filleted." Macen responded, "But Parva's right. We don't have to get involved. No one has to accept this mission. It won't be held against you, if we somehow retain our letters of marque. T'Kir and I have agreed we have to go but no one else is liable."

"I'll go." Daggit promptly volunteered.

"As will I." Riker seconded.

"Count me in." Grace asserted.

"It is no way for a brave man to die." Kort rumbled, "I am for it."

"You know me," Radil grinned, "I'm always up for a fight."

All eyes came to rest on Parva. She locked hers with Macen's.

"There's no pressure Parva. Gilan can handle Engineering." Macen assured her.

"Yeah," she ran a hand through the platinum streaks dyed into her black hair, "but Hal is my friend and I owe him this. I'm in as well."

A cheer resounded throughout the room that Macen abstained from. Grace asked the next question.

"So what's the plan, Captain?"

"The plan is to get underway, travel to Ardanna IV as fast as our engines can carry us and break the Chief out of jail."

"Sounds good." Riker commented, "Take your stations people. And Parva…change your clothes."

Parva wiggled her arse at Riker as she left. Riker, T'Kir and Macen stayed in the Ready Room.

"Do we stand a chance?" Riker asked.

"We always stand _a_ chance, Tom." Macen retorted, "The question is how good of a chance do we have?"

"And the answer is?"

"Slim to none." Macen grimly admitted, "But we have to try, if only to honour his memory."

"I won't tell the crew." Riker replied, "Let them keep their hopes high."

"You're a good man, Tom Riker." Macen said, "By the way, when's Lisea coming back?"

"Her leave isn't due to end for another three weeks." Riker replied rather forlornly.

"Never fear, Tom, she always turns up. Especially when you least expect her too."

Riker grinned, "Looking forward to it."

* * *

After Riker left T'Kir turned to Macen, "Are he and Lees…?

"Halfway there." Macen looked taken aback, "What gives, normally you're the one telling me all the ship's gossip."

"Yeah, but now I'm so doped up I can barely read my own thoughts much less anyone else's."

"We'll have to get Kort to lower the dosage."

"We could just do it ourselves."

"Ohhh no, I made that mistake once already. I'm not going back there." Macen was adamant.

"Fine." T'Kir was crestfallen, "We'll do it your way."

"Of course. It's good to be the Captain." Macen said smugly

"If this couch weren't bolted down, I'd throw it at you." T'Kir warned.

T'Kir's comm badge chirped and she slapped her belt, "What?"

"I hate to interrupt," Riker said dryly, "but we need you at your station so we can release moorings and the umbilical to the station."

"Right." T'Kir nodded to no one, "Sorry. I'll be right there."

As she made for the door, she cast an accusing finger at Macen, "This isn't over yet."

* * *

While the _Obsidian _crew made final preparations for departure, a dilapidated runabout named the _Flea_ came hurtling into Barrinor's atmosphere. It was owned and captained by one Dack Arrow. His sole passenger and temporary engineer was one Kiv Rever.

"Why's it heating up in here?" Rever asked as he came forward.

"Older models like this didn't rely on heat shields." Arrow explained, "They had ceramic tiles over the duranium hull plating."

"Exactly how old is this ship? That technology was old in the 22nd century." Rever asked, "The engines are such a hodgepodge that it can't be told. Oh, and we're about three minutes from a warp core breach."

"Then get back there and deal with it!" Arrow commanded, "I gave you a special rate in exchange for a working passage. And put on an environmental suit. The life support systems a bit wonky, it's liable to get a whole lot hotter in here."

"I'll show you hotter." Rever muttered as he shrugged into an environmental suit that fit. He read the instructions on the suits and realised they were in Cardassian. If they were like any other Cardassian equipment he'd worked with, it'd fail. The last safety inspection tag was dated back before the DMZ treaty, making it twelve years out of date.

First he sealed the boots, and then the torso ring, the gloves and finally the helmet. The helmet was wide to accommodate Cardassian neck bones. The effect on a human was a tad unsettling. It felt like not wearing any neck protection at all.

"How're ya doing, lad?" Arrow's voice called over the helmet's comm system.

"Headed back to the engines now." Rever reported as he moved.

"Good. I'm getting a red telltale up here."

_You wouldn't if your ship weren't an antiquated piece of junk_. Rever thought bitterly as he set about working on the myriad problems facing him. First off was the intermix regulator. It looked vaguely 23rd century Romulan in design. All Rever knew was that it required constant monitoring or an uncontrolled matter/antimatter annihilation would begin.

The entire interior of the ship seemed to be a vague collection of surplus parts and black market goods. Arrow had already scheduled a flight to Barrinor and was looking for an engineer when Rever contacted him about hiring him. Arrow had been so delighted to find a flight engineer to work of passage, he let him board for free. Now Rever felt he should have waited and paid someone else to take him.

Arrow had a solid reputation though. If you wanted something delivered in a hurry and wanted to avoid the authorities, Arrow was your man. He refused to traffic in slaves and narcotics but everything else was fair game.

Rever could see how he squeezed the speed out of his antique ship but he had to by-pass every conceivable safety margin to do it. Arrow had told him that a collector of vintage spacecraft awaited him on Barrinor. Rever could see how he could part out the ship to collectors for years to come, especially if the intended buyer wanted to restore her.

"Just hold her together for a few more minutes and then we'll be on the ground, one way or t'other." Arrow commed.

"I prefer a landing over a crash!" Rever shouted back through the static of his suit's comm gear.

"Me too, lad." Arrow shouted in return, "Me too."

A fierce shudder passed through the ship and Rever feared the worst until Arrow commed him again, "We're down, lad. Time to shut down the engines…for the last time."

Arrow seemed saddened by this but he'd regaled Rever with tales of his ambitions. First he'd take his newfound wealth and purchase a surplus _Mosquito_-class runabout and then hire three hands to help him run her. He was certain he'd recoup his expenses in six months or less. After all, he claimed he'd been turning down jobs for months.

Rever didn't care, "How far are we from Outbound Ventures?"

"You're here, lad!" Arrow boasted, "I landed on their private field."

Rever unfastened his helmet and cycled the warp core shutdown. He stalked off towards the cockpit while he stripped out of the cumbersome environmental suit. He stormed into the cockpit full of rage.

"What do you mean you landed on their private field?"

It seemed the best way to reach them. This way, they come to us and help me find my buyer." Arrow grinned toothily.

"Are you insane?" Rever asked then held up a hand, "Don't answer that. Look a greeting party is approaching and they're armed and looked extremely unhappy."

"It'll motivate them to help us." Arrow said as he shrugged out of his own environmental suit.

Arrow proceeded to the main hatch and released it. It slid open to reveal three armed individuals aiming phasers at them. Behind the wall of guards stood an elegant looking African-Cuban woman. She seemed infuriated.

"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you playing at?" Pike demanded.

"Why, I am none other than the legendary Captain Dack Arrow and this is my young passenger, Kiv Rever." Arrow announced bombastically. The Trill engineer wanted to die.

Pike's expression softened, "Kiv Rever, as in Hal Dracas' Kiv Rever?"

Rever nodded urgently, "I need to speak with Captain Macen. It might mean the difference between life or death for Hal."

"Come to the office." Pike instructed, "_Both_ of you. I'll see if Macen has left the system yet. He's mounting a rescue operation even as we speak."

"As for you," Pike pointed squarely at Arrow, "we're not through yet."

* * *

Barrinor Station was a K-series space station. Originally labelled _K-15_, the locals had swiftly changed the name to suit their tastes. Barrinor Station was twice as large as a normal K-series. That was to facilitate its ore processing centre and industrial nodes. Although over a century old, the station was meticulously maintained and upgraded. Most of industrial capacity was now devoted to fabricating spare parts that were no longer available elsewhere.

The _Obsidian _was docked at one of the outlying pylons on one of the station's three "arms". The station was a commercial hub for Barrinor and the station's traffic reflected that. The _Obsidian _was only being allowed to dock there until the SPYards completed the ship's orbital maintenance dock. After that, that would be the surveyor's "home port".

The _Obsidian_ had already disconnected from the station and was using manoeuvring thrusters to push herself away to a safe distance to engage impulse engines. It was during this choreographed dance that Macen received Pike's message. Macen ordered Grace to place the ship in a parking orbit over the planet while he and T'Kir beamed down to find out what was so urgent that it had driven Kiv Rever halfway across the quadrant.

* * *

Macen and T'Kir materialised on the transporter pads of the headquarters building's transporter room. Pike was awaiting them. With her was a haunted looking Kiv Rever.

"It's all my fault." Rever began rambling, "Hal is going to die because of me!"

"Slow down." Macen suggested, "Let's go to our office and sit down."

It was "our" office since he shared the space with T'Kir. There were two desks situated in a "V". The other furniture was all centred on looking at the desks and their occupants. Pike selected a couch that faced T'Kir's desk. Rever sat at a chair between the viewpoints of the two desks.

"Why don't you begin at the beginning?" Macen suggested.

"Hal and I kept our relationship as secretive as we could." Rever explained, "We both knew the consequences of his people ever discovering about us. Hal shared our secret with you, knowing his secret would be safe. I never told my co-workers, not knowing who to trust."

"But you told someone else." Macen deduced.

Rever nodded and swallowed hard. His guilt and remorse threatening to overwhelm him, "I told my contact at Solarian Security Systems. I mentioned that was how I'd obtain the information they wanted about you all."

Macen gave T'Kir a meaningful look, "It appears Solarian Security Systems is on an active campaign to harm us."

"What do you mean?" an anguished Rever asked.

"Last night they sent six would be assassins after us." Macen divulged, "At least that's the theory considering who they sent and the body count they racked up."

"By the Pools, this is all my fault." Rever wept.

"It's true you made a foolish deal with Solarian but you aren't responsible for their actions." Macen consoled him.

"But Hal?"

"If they're responsible, I'll see to it that they pay." Macen vowed and turned to Pike, "You have a second piece of business?"

"A certain Captain Arrow landed his ship on our landing area. Right atop the doors that lead to the underground hangar in fact."

"_Dack _Arrow?" Macen asked incredulously.

"Exactly…you know him?" Pike was surprised.

"I know of him, from my days with Starfleet Intelligence and with the Maquis." Macen revealed, "Where is Captain Arrow?"

"Being held in the reception area."

"Let's go meet him." Macen rose and everyone else did likewise.

* * *

The portly "free trader" was seated between two security guards. The third sat across the reception area with her hand on her phaser. The three guards were from the _Obsidian's _Security detail doing their stint at HQ. Only Radil and her deputy, Abigail Collins, were exempt from the three-month rotation. The other Outbound Ventures ships' crews were exempt as well.

Arrow rose upon Macen's appearance and was thrown back down into his seat by the guards. Macen held up a hand.

"It's all right. Let him approach."

Arrow rose and shook himself, gathered his composure and approached Macen with a beaming smile, "Captain, I can see that you are a kindred intellect. We're both men of action and profit. I'm losing both by being detained here like this."

"I appreciate that Captain Arrow, but I'm certain the Bajorans won't." Macen replied.

"What?" a baffled Arrow sputtered.

"They appreciate the arms and technology transfers you smuggled to them during the Occupation but they also want to try you for smuggling weapons grade dolomite to the Cardassians. As I understand it, they're willing to commute the life sentence down to a mere ten years."

"I must deny these charges." Arrow said with umbrage, "I'm an innocent man."

"You smuggled arms to the Maquis, for which I'm grateful enough to avoid turning you in for it to the Federation." Macen noted Arrow's surprise at this revelation, "You should have changed your aliases more often Dack Arrow, or should I say Simon Greeley, or perhaps it's Herbert Fountenroy this week. Or should we skip to the chase and call you by your real name, Harcourt Fenton Mudd IV."

"Damn." Mudd muttered.

"Who?" T'Kir had to ask, "I thought we knew Harry Mudd."

"This Mudd is the great-great grandson of the original Harry Mudd and the son of the Mudd we knew. The original was an infamous con artist and a nemesis of James T. Kirk." Macen revealed.

"Hence your interest." T'Kir opined.

"Harry conned his way into several beds as well as into several misspent fortunes." Macen explained, "At least one of these star crossed lovers named her offspring for Harry and regaled the child with the exploits of his father. He followed in his father's footsteps and the generational cycle began. It's the most famous family crime ring in Federation history."

"So where's your heir, Mudd?" T'Kir enquired, "Ah, Bolius. Good choice. The Bolians are pretty liberal when it comes to confidence schemes and smuggling."

Mudd looked aghast, "She read my mind!"

T'Kir curtsied, "It's a speciality of mine."

"What do we do with him?" Pike asked.

"Throw him in a detention cell and call the Bajorans." Macen shrugged.

"You need me, Captain!" Mudd cried as two of the guards each grabbed him by an arm.

"And why is that?" Macen asked sceptically.

"You're going to attempt to mount a rescue of young Rever's beloved are you not?"

Macen glared at Rever, "What of it?"

"I've had several dealings on Ardanna IV, particularly with the Troglytes. I can be of invaluable assistance." Mudd insisted.

Macen looked over at T'Kir who nodded and then shrugged, "All right but you will be under constant surveillance."

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Mudd clapped his hands together.

Macen tapped his comm badge, "Macen to Radil."

"Radil here."

"Have a Security team meet us in the transporter room." Macen ordered, "We're bringing aboard a guest who will require special attention."

"Understood." The transmission ended.

"Not very chatty is she?" Mudd asked.

"You have no idea." Macen replied and led the way back to the transporter room.

The guards stood by as Mudd climbed up to a pad. Macen and T'Kir surrounded Rever.

"We'll do everything we can to bring him back." T'Kir said and hugged him.

"Solarian won't get away with this, you have my word." Macen repeated his earlier promise.

"Thank you, all of you." Rever said including Pike in his visual sweep.

"C'mon," Pike said taking him by the arm, "let's get you a room for the next couple of days. We have a couple of safe houses. I think one of those will do nicely. We can keep updated from there."

"Thanks." Rever said gratefully.

Macen and T'Kir stepped up to the transporter pads and Mudd spoke, "Since we're going to be working together, please call me Harry."

"I prefer 'Mudd'." Macen replied tersely.

"Really Captain." Mudd chastised, "No need to be hostile. We should…"

The transporter beam took them.

* * *

"...try our best to get along together during this period." Mudd was finishing as he materialised in the _Obsidian's _Main Transporter Room. Telrik grinned upon seeing his captain's pained expression.

"I don't know what you're expecting from this trip Mudd." Macen stated, "All you're getting out of it is a good word at your trial once the Bajoran authorities have you in custody."

"I was hoping to discuss that aspect of your plans…" Mudd began when the room's doors opened and Radil and two members of the Security detail arrived.

"Is this our lowlife 'guest'?" Radil asked, pointing at Mudd.

"Now I object to your terminology." Mudd protested, "I may be a smuggler but that doesn't make me a criminal, rather, I'm an entrepreneur at heart."

"Shut up!" Radil snapped, "You'll keep your mouth closed or you'll be gagged. One of my officers may have to escort you wherever you go but that doesn't mean he or she has to listen to your drivel. Understood?"

Mudd mutely nodded and Radil turned to Macen, "Access rights?"

"The Team Room, the rec room and the gym. The bridge upon request." Macen detailed.

"All right." Radil planted her fists on her hips, "Jarvic, you get first watch. Have fun."

The Bolian sighed and motioned for Mudd to follow. T'Kir grinned.

"This is certainly one of your more interesting ideas."

"I just hope I don't live to regret it." Macen sighed.

"If he acts on any one of a dozen plans he already has hatching in that stewpot he calls a brain, you will." T'Kir warned.

"I feel better already." Macen deadpanned.


	3. Chapter 3

50

The trip to Ardanna took six days. In all of that time, Harry Mudd IV did his best to stay out of trouble or invite suspicion. This, of course, just bred more suspicion. T'Kir incessantly laughed about it all.

"He's toying with us." she said between bouts of hilarity in her and Macen's quarters, "He hasn't found a means of escape so he's just rattling a few nerves trying to shake an opportunity loose."

"I'll let Radil know she can ease up a bit." Macen nodded.

"You might try relaxing yourself." T'Kir advised.

"Mudd is the least of my worries." Macen admitted, "The Troglyte authorities have had Hal for eleven days now. In all probability he's already dead."

"Great optimism." T'Kir criticised as she rolled onto her stomach on the bed and crossed her feet, "Really inspires the troops."

Macen rolled his eyes, "C'mon T'Kir, I'm confident we can help Hal _if _we get there in time."

"Well, how long do the Troglytes typically wait to execute someone?" she leaned her check against her hand.

"Depends on the severity of the crime." Macen explained, "Minor offences require two or three days. Severe crimes, such as this one require ten to twelve days of public humiliation."

T'Kir swung herself into a seated position, "Humiliation?"

Macen nodded, looking grave, "The prisoner is placed in stocks during the day where he or she can endure public insults and abuse. At night they're placed in what Terrans used to refer to as a "Crow's Cage". This way midnight pranksters and animals are allowed to harass the prisoner throughout the night."

"That's so…primitive." T'Kir said in horror.

"When James Kirk, the Troglytes' 'Great Liberator', came he found the Statosians living comfortably in 23rd century human standards and the Troglytes relegated to the 18th century." Macen described, "Their customs are still very feudal despite being push started towards a modern era."

"How are the locals armed?" T'Kir's brows knitted.

"The local constabulary carries phasers but the rest of the populace are universally armed with knives of varying length." Macen answered, "At least that's according to Harry Mudd."

"Should be the Gospel truth then." T'Kir remarked snidely, "He probably sold them the phasers and the knives."

"The phasers at any rate." Macen agreed.

"So what's the plan?" T'Kir brightened.

"Well, Mudd, Tom and I came up with a workable plan that the Troglytes might buy into."

"Mudd as in _Harry Mudd_?" T'Kir demanded, "Where was I during these planning sessions?"

Macen shook his head, "Mudd wouldn't speak in front of you. You scare him."

"I should." T'Kir said with pride. Her meds had been lowered to a more comfortable level. Her telepathy was still under control but it was much easier for her to glide in and out of other minds. All minds except those of Macen and Hannah Grace. Their mental shields were strong enough to repel her probes even when her abilities were at full strength.

T'Kir often wondered if Macen's resistance to her telepathy had been what first attracted her to him. It certainly had served to make him a refuge and a confidant. It was that role of confidant that had cemented her feelings. Macen had never discussed what it was that had drawn him to her and T'Kir's curiosity had finally reached a peak.

"What first attracted you to me?"

"What?" Macen was thrown by the sudden change of topic.

"When we first met, what drew you to me…much to Lees' chagrin?" T'Kir wore a devilish smile during the last part of that question.

Macen shook his head, "You shouldn't make fun of Lisea. She and I tried to make it work despite you."

"You're avoiding the question." she accused.

"All right." Macen sighed, "When Ro transferred you to my command, when we first secured the _Odyssey_, she described you as an unrepentant troublemaker. When I met you, I had another impression."

"Y'mean I'm not a troublemaker?"

Macen laughed, "Yes, you are and you're unrepentant about it. But what captured my attention was your raw vitality. You _felt_ everything and you felt it with the entirety of your being. You were an individualist and you weren't afraid of what anyone thought of you. You were the rebel fighting the galaxy and you needed an ally."

"So that's what attracted you to me." T'Kir looked like a Cheshire cat as she slinked off the bed and walked over to Macen and pulled him up out of his chair and wrapped her arms around his neck, "I think that's sweet."

Their kiss was smouldering, full of unvoiced passion and desire. When it ended, Macen was grinning, "Anything else you'd like to know?"

Macen's comm badge began chirping and T'Kir planted her fists akimbo, "Yeah, why's that have to happen just when it's getting good?"

Macen ignored her complaint and slapped the offending badge, "Macen here."

"We'll be entering the Ardannan system in ten minutes." Riker announced, "You said you wanted to know."

"Are the alpha shift personnel on duty?"

"You and T'Kir are the only ones that left to…discuss strategy." Macen could hear Riker's grin through the voice link.

"Calm down, Commander." Macen advised, "We were discussing the operation plans."

"Thought you answered a little too soon for it to be anything compromising." Riker said with disappointment.

"Happy to squelch your expectations." Macen remarked, "We'll be up in a minute."

Macen cut the link and then lifted T'Kir's chin with his forefinger. He then reached around her neck, took hold and pulled her into him. The kiss was fierce and full of promise.

"Riker should call more often." T'Kir commented.

"A pre-celebratory moment." Macen remarked.

"I'm looking forward to the celebration." T'Kir confessed as they left their quarters.

* * *

It took forty-five minutes to reach Ardannan orbit. The officials of Stratos welcomed them and expressed a desire to meet with some corporate representatives in order to arrange convoy escorts for their ore shipments. Macen said he'd be happy to negotiate a deal but that he first had to conclude some business with the Troglytes. The Stratosian looked disappointed but rerouted Macen to the Clan Confederacy Centre.

At this point Harry Mudd took over the negotiations, "Hello again, it's me Harry Mudd. I'm back.

"We know who you are, Mudd." the hard-bitten elder replied, "You have been paid for your services. We have nothing else to discuss with you."

"Wait!" Harry cried before the elder could terminate the transmission, "The people I'm with, they're here to collect a debt from a Troglyte. A prisoner to be exact held by one of your clans."

"Which prisoner?"

"Hal Dracas." Mudd supplied with a sigh of relief.

"The deviant?" the elder chuckled harshly, "it's no wonder he had foreign debts. Your people better collect swiftly, he's being executed tonight."

"Can you give us his location?" Mudd enquired.

"He's at these coordinates but your people had better expect a bit of a walk." the elder replied, "He's being held in a place of dishonour in the centre of the village. Transport inhibitors are set up to keep any other deviants from beaming him away."

"The XZ-12s I sold you?" Mudd asked.

The elder nodded, "I'll alert the village constables to expect you at these coordinates. It's getting on toward evening. The crowds will soon be gathering for the execution."

"We understand." Mudd signed off and turned to face Macen, "There you go, Captain."

Macen tapped his comm badge, "Radil, meet us in the armoury. Load for an extraction."

"Roger." she replied.

"T'Kir, Rab you're with me." Macen said and moved towards the lift, "Tom, the ship is yours. If we're not back in an hour, come and get us."

"And risk my new ship and crew?"

"You don't get paid without T'Kir or I to authorise the vouchers." Macen reminded him.

"Okay, I'll rescue her and leave you to your fate."

"Good man." Macen nodded and stepped into the awaiting lift followed by T'Kir and Daggit.

* * *

In preparation for the upcoming event, every team member altered their attire. Macen and T'Kir merely added their jackets. His was a ribbed, black flight jacket. Hers was a black leather duster. Daggit changed into a stone grey Starfleet surplus field duty uniform with a black turtleneck shirt underneath. Radil wore black trousers and a black cable knit sweater.

All wore their holster/utility belts. In addition, Radil had a portable phaser cannon strapped to her right side. Daggit added a double shoulder holster to his double holster rig. One leg bore a pump action photon grenade launcher and the other an ammo pouch for the launcher. All carried extra power packs for their phaser pistols in loose pouches on their utility belt. Tricorders, sensor glasses, image intensifiers, basic first aid equipment, and in T'Kir's case, a microcomputer filled the other pouches.

When Daggit and Radil emerged from the Armoury, they met Macen and T'Kir at the Transporter Room. Mudd and his escort were in there as well, giving Macen last minute advice.

"These are blunt, plainspoken people, Captain." Mudd described, "It's best to be the same towards them."

"Y'do realise that if you're lying, we'll kill you when we get back." T'Kir smiled sweetly.

Mudd started, "And they'll want to see proof of your claim."

Macen handed Mudd a padd for the smuggler's inspection, "This is _good_." Mudd said admiringly.

"Since Hal was a former employee, all we had t'do is transfer fifty bars of latinum into his account." T'Kir boasted, "The bank's security protocols need some work."

"Would you consider a limited partnership?" Mudd asked.

T'Kir draped her arms around Macen's shoulders and gave Mudd a feral smile, "I have a partner and he knows how to show me a good time."

"Right." Mudd looked uncomfortable, "Are you certain you're a Vulcan?"

"Born and bred." T'Kir replied, "Logic's a useful tool but living according to its ethos is awfully boring. I prefer passion."

"And it looks good on you." Mudd returned.

"If I thought you were being sincere, I'd be flattered."

"I never lie to a beautiful woman." Mudd retorted, "It's my one virtue."

"And for once, he speaks the unfiltered truth." T'Kir announced.

"So what did you filter from me, Mudd?" Macen asked.

"You're being armed will grease some wheels with the Troglytes. They'll be more prone to believe you." Mudd answered, "They're a proud people who settle disputes with Clan refereed knife fights. If you've transmitted your bona fides like I suggested, they'll respect you."

"Two for two." T'Kir pushed Mudd's shoulder, "I'm proud of you, Harry."

Telrik interrupted, "We're in range of the coordinate you specified, Captain."

"Time to go." Macen announced and stepped up onto the transporter padd. The rest of the team joined him.

"Try not to miss us while we're gone." T'Kir blew a kiss in Mudd's direction. He blushed while the team shimmered out of corporeal existence. Mudd turned to his escort, "Well m'dear, let's check out your recreation centre again. I feel like a game of chance."

* * *

Macen and company rematerialised at the edge of the village. Apparently the Troglyte Clan was taking no chances. Two Troglytes wearing comm badges and phasers were there to greet them. Included with the phasers were two knives with at least as big as Daggit's massive Bowie knife stored in a boot sheath. The two constables took in the team's heavy armament and nodded to one another.

The older of the two stepped forward and extended a hand. Macen filled it with the padd containing their falsified claim and proof of currency to cover it.

Satisfied, the man broke into a grim smile, "Greetings Captain Macen. You and your party meet our expectations. We'll escort you to the deviant now."

As the two led the team through the warrens that led to the centre of the village, the team observed landmarks so they could retrace their steps in a hurry. Soon they came to a circular area surrounded by buildings. A pair of stocks dominated the centre of the area. Off to the side, hanging from a yardarm was a crow's cage. A battered and bruised Dracas occupied it. A third guard stood by the cage.

"There he is." the older constable pointed, "Present your claim."

Macen and company moved over to the cage, surrounding it. The third constable maintained his post.

"Hal, it's us." Macen said.

Groggily, Dracas registered the face and voice, "Captain! You have to leave. They're going to kill me in a hour."

"Give us a thumbprint authorisation on this padd." T'Kir instructed, "It'll maintain the illusion that we're here to collect a debt."

"What debt?" Dracas asked as his wits sharpened.

_One I invented as a pretext for this visit. _T'Kir spoke into Dracas' mind, _We're breaking you out. Just relax and go along with us._

T'Kir shifted her weight so that she was closer to the monitoring constable. Her left hand flashed out and took hold of the _katra _point in his neck and applied the infamous Vulcan nerve pinch. The guard collapsed and his two compatriots leapt into action. The younger went for his phaser while the older slapped his comm badge.

Daggit pulled a phaser and shot the younger while Macen assumed a two handed stance and stunned the older man. Unfortunately, the man had gotten enough of the word out that the alarm was sounded. Radil pulled her phaser free with her free hand and shot the mechanical lock of the cage. Daggit assisted Dracas out of the cage. The Chief was unsteady on his feet.

Approaching footsteps motivated the group to move out. Daggit supported Dracas while the Chief found his footing. Radil took rearguard and laid down a barrage of cover fire. Macen and T'Kir took point and guided the ragged group through the streets.

They were drawn up short when they ran headlong into a street full of knife wielding Troglytes. They were in the middle of a boulevard and had building to either side of them. Troglytes began appearing from the buildings. Behind them, Radil continued to lay down suppressive fire but it was a losing battle as the advancing throng pressed forward.

Macen and T'Kir drew their weapons but there were far too many bodies for them to stun them all before they would be overwhelmed in a mass rush. Dracas touched Macen's shoulder.

"It's me they want." he said, "You're offworlders. You'll be free to go."

"Chief, no!" Macen insisted, "We'll find a way out of this."

"I already have." Dracas said and walked out in front of Macen and T'Kir and approached the milling crowd, "My friends are innocent. They are just offworlders doing what they think is right."

"They shall be free to go." A gruff voice spoke and pushed its way through the crowd. An ancient Troglyte appeared, "Are you prepared to meet your sentence, Hal Dracas."

"Yes," Dracas replied, "but I think it's foolish to be killed over my sexual preferences. This is who I am. I've lived a good life and harmed no one. I left and didn't subject you to my differences. I was accepted in the Federation. I found love. Can any of you say you haven't sought the same?"

"Their tolerance is their crime, not ours." The clan elder proclaimed, "You are being judged by the standards of your people not by alien ways."

"Someday," Dracas insisted, "someday your progeny will come to accept people like me and they'll regret days like this."

"Not as long as these generations lives." The elder proclaimed.

"Then it's a lucky thing that other generations will follow after you're dead." Dracas said in finality.

"Enough of this!" The elder's voice cracked as he shouted, "The sentence will be carried out now!"

A group of men approached Dracas and the first thrust his knife under Dracas' ribs and pushed upward into his heart. Dracas gasped as the man retreated. The other six men came at him, knives stabbing at him repetitively.

Macen began to take aim at the men but T'Kir pushed his pistol back down, "He chose this, Brin. Don't dishonour his sacrifice."

The six men ceased their efforts when Dracas was prone and unmoving on the ground. They retreated and Dracas' bloody body lay limp and lifeless.

Macen approached the elder, "What of his body?"

"What of it?" the elder replied, "It is rubbish. It will be recycled with the trash."

"I want it." Macen declared, "It may be worthless to you but it has value to me."

"Take it!" The elder spat, "Sweep up our trash for us."

Daggit knelt and picked up Dracas' corpse in a fireman's cradle and the elder spoke again, "Know this offworlder, your identity will be spread across the clans. Clan Dracas is not the only place you will be banned from. The surface of Ardanna IV is closed to you. We care not what you do with the Stratosians."

"Don't worry." Macen stared into the elder's eyes, "I have no reason to return. This was a good man. What happened here was a tragedy and someday you'll realise that."

"I trust you can find your way past the transport inhibitors?" The elder asked.

"We can."

"Clear a path!" the elder shouted, "The aliens are leaving."

A path appeared as the Troglytes parted to wither side of the street. With their weapons stowed, the Outbound Ventures squad walked down the middle of the lane, carrying the body of their comrade. A group of Troglytes, the same that had killed Dracas, followed them. Macen's hand tightened around the grip of his phaser but T'Kir placed her hand atop his.

They reached the edge of the inhibitor field and Telrik commed, "Ready to come up, Captain?"

"More than ready." Macen said, his rage having turned cold and precise.

The transporter took hold of them and they were whisked away.

* * *

The _Obsidian _immediately broke orbit. Macen signalled the Stratosian officials and gave them Outbound Venture's business comm code. The ship was on a parabolic course around Ardanna, the system's primary. It was all for Hal Dracas' funeral.

The SID team changed into their Starfleet dress uniforms. The rest of the engineering staff and those few other crewmembers like Shannon Forger arrived in whatever uniforms they were wearing at the time. Radil and Parva stood out in their all grey dress tunics standing next to the mixed white and grey of the officers. Kort wore his most formal armour. Harry Mudd and his escort attended as well.

The flag draped photon tube containing Dracas' body was in position in front of the starboard torpedo magazine. The magazine load had already been shuffled to allow the insertion of the casket. The crew was assembled around the tube with Macen standing at its "head". With a heavy heart, he began to speak.

"We must remember that Hal Dracas gave his life for us, so the mission could be completed without further casualties. The Chief didn't see this as a failure, our attempt to rescue him was validation enough for him. It is difficult to look at what happened and not see failure but Hal saw it differently. He used his death to try and bring change to his people. I will not be dissuaded from believing they heard him. They saw a brave man facing his own death who spoke to them about tolerance and change. That is a victory. It wasn't ours, it was the Chief's. If I can meet tomorrow as bravely as Hal met his death, then that will be a triumph over any obstacle that arises. Hal's example should inspire us all to strive to excel and bravely meet the drudgery of the day."

"Hal Dracas was one of the kindest, decent men I ever known." Macen divulged, "He had an earthy wisdom which could illuminate if listened to. I've missed his presence aboard this ship. I'll miss him even more now."

Macen nodded at Daggit and Grace who took the UFP flag and began folding it. Macen tapped his comm badge, "We consign this body to the fount of life." The

torpedo tube rolled forward and the magazine's hatch closed behind it. When the hatch was secure, there was a slight shudder in the deckplates as the casket was shot into the sun.

Macen's comm badge chirped, "What is it?"

"You said you wanted to know if any Solarian ships showed up." Rhiann, the gamma shift pilot said, "Two just entered the system and seem to be plotting intercept courses for us."

"Hang on, Rhiann." Macen said, "We'll be there in a moment." Then he addressed the assembled crowd, "Everyone, take your battle stations!"


	4. Chapter 4

67

The ETA on the ships with the Solarian ID transponders was over forty-five minutes away so everyone had an opportunity to dress down from their uniforms to their normal modes of dress. Upon entering the bridge, Macen was wearing his flight jacket in addition to his usual clothes.

Shervarhia'annderi, or "Rhiann", slid out of her seat and let Grace take over the helm. The Andorian may have come from a proud race but she knew her skills paled before Grace's piloting wizardry. Rhiann's Starfleet fitness reports had been adequate but fell far short of spectacular. Grace was a demigoddess behind the controls of a ship and Rhiann marvelled at how effortless it was for her.

Of course, Grace's Kelvan ancestry played a major part in that technical expertise. Born the granddaughter of Drea, the pilot of the original Kelvan mission to the Milky Way, Grace inherited the genetic knowledge of astronavigation. She'd learned engineering from her grandfather. Her mother was a pilot and her father was an astronavigator. Add that accumulated knowledge with her genetically perfect human body and you had quite a combination.

Grace's eye/hand coordination was legendary. She was the only crewmember aboard that could consistently beat Daggit at darts. Her muscle memory was also excellent. She was learning Vulcan and Romulan martial arts from T'Kir at a phenomenal rate.

Grace plopped down behind the board and visually scanned it, "I have the controls, Captain."

Macen looked around to see that Daggit and T'Kir had done the same. T'Kir was unlocking the "extracurricular" functions of the OPS board. Daggit simply sat down and fired up his station. The gamma shift didn't keep a science officer on duty. Danan's Sciences department was on call 24/7.

Danan's people normally worked the twelve-hour alpha shift with Danan herself covering the gamma if something arose. She sat perched at her console looking bright and alert. Her dark, chestnut hair was pulled back into a "tail". The colour accentuated her species' natural spots that framed their faces and extended down the length of their bodies.

T'Kir sat at her station and studied her sensor readings through a few loose strands of hair. Her hair was normally parted from the right and swept across her forehead to the left, tucked behind her ear. Stray hairs always crept up regardless of what hair products she used. It was a problem that dogged her every time she wore a similar style.

"What do our sensors say about the incoming ships?" Macen asked.

"They're definitely Solarian ships. The _Rascal_ and the _Vanguard_. What you're not going to believe is the ship classes of this vessels." T'Kir reported.

"What would those be?" a bemused Macen asked.

"The _Rascal _is a _Mercury_-class frigate and the _Vanguard _is a _Constitution_-class heavy cruiser." T'Kir revealed, "That's a bit odd, don'cha think?"

Indeed it was, Macen concluded. Both ships were 23rd century models. There shouldn't be any left, not even decommissioned surplus ones.

"Is the _Constitution_ a refit model?" Macen enquired.

"D'you honestly think I'd have left that fact out?" T'Kir sniped.

"Sorry." Macen replied, an idea coming to mind, "Lees, scan the hulls of those ships. I want to know when and where they were made."

"Is it important?"

"I think it's vital."

"I'm on it then."

Every shipyard utilised different ore deposits. Even refined duranium contained variations of trace elements. These variations in hull composition could be used to determine the known point of origin for every ship.

"Hannah, what's their ETA on overtaking us?" Macen wondered.

"Well, we're travelling at half impulse. I thought the inbound ships were travelling at three-quarters impulse but now I know its full impulse for them. Give them another twenty-eight minutes I'd say."

"Bring us about, Hannah." Macen ordered, "Let's see what their intentions are."

"Even a mid-23rd century _Constitution_-class starship can inflict a healthy amount of damage upon us." Riker advised, "We're a science vessel, not a combatant."

"Not as much damage as we can inflict upon her." Macen countered.

"How can you be so certain?" Riker asked.

"Rab, analysis of the incoming ship's shields and weaponry?" Macen requested.

"The ships appear to have Type V phasers and unimodular shields." Daggit added a shrug, "All fairly standard for a mid-23rd century starship."

"If my guess regarding the origin of these starships is accurate, they'll be completely based on 23rd century tech." Macen informed Riker, "That means their tactics will have to match. They'll want a long distance engagement so we'll go to maximum impulse and close the distance. Hear that, Hannah?"

"I love maximum impulse." Grace replied gleefully.

"Take a seat, Tom, and enjoy the show as it unfolds." Macen suggested with a grin.

"You're nuts." Riker commented.

"No." Macen shook his head, "That would be my wife."

"Hey!" T'Kir protested, "I heard that!"

"You were meant to." Macen confided as he retook his seat, "Shields up. Arm all weapons systems but do not fire until they do. Concentrate a torpedo barrage on the _Constitution_-class and focus phasers on the _Mercury_-class ship. Hannah, when we pass, keep the frigate between us and the cruiser."

"Gotcha." Grace perkily acknowledged.

"Lees?"

"Yeah?"

"I really do need that information."

"You'll get it when we pass by them."

"Thank you."

"Hey!" T'Kir protested, "How come she rates a 'thank you' and I get a 'she's nuts'?"

"Because you are and I love you for it." Macen replied.

"Oh…okay then." T'Kir brightened.

"ETA on our intercept?" Macen asked Grace.

"Seven minutes."

Macen smiled and glanced over towards Riker, "Well within weapons range. We'll see their true colours at any moment."

It took another minute before the two Solarian ships opened fire. When they did, they engaged with phasers and photon torpedoes. Like the rest of their armament, the torpedoes were antiques but far more powerful than anything a civilian raider would typically sport. Mercenary craft and Orion pirates would sport more modern weaponry but typically not as powerful a warp core which meant the Solarian ships could sustain a greater rate of fire for longer.

The _Obsidian's _shields were automatically modulated away from the frequencies the phasers and torpedoes were set for. Daggit began returning fire. His phasers modulated, seeking the frequency the enemy ship's shields were on. It was a distant hope but one that had to be tried.

His torpedo barrage was unrelenting and the _Vanguard's _shields soon began to buckle. The tactical sensors revealed the damage being inflicted upon the cruiser. As Grace vectored the surveyor to the far side of the _Rascal_, The torpedo assault on the _Vanguard _ceased but the frigate blocked the cruiser's starboard phaser banks from firing upon the _Obsidian_. Daggit continued pummelling the frigate with phaser fire. Her shields were buckling and explosions began erupting across her hull.

"Warp speed, Hannah." Macen ordered, "Now."

The stars in the viewscreen streaked as they blue shifted and then settled into rapidly moving pinpricks of light.

"Course and speed?" Grace asked.

"Maximum warp." Macen answered, "I'll have a destination in a moment. Lisea? About that data?"

"They're new hulls from an unclassified shipyard." Danan reported.

"Unclassified because they're from outside the Federation." Macen growled, "Hannah, set course for Iotia."

"Are you sure?" Grace asked.

"Now isn't the time to start questioning orders, Hannah." Macen warned.

"Aye, sir. Iotia it is."

"Macen to Parva."

"Yes, Captain? Planning on abusing my engines again? I've already have all of my damage control crews working as fast as they can."

"It's appreciated and yes, we're going to be travelling at high warp speeds for the next few days."

"How many days?"

"Hannah?"

"Seventy-seven hours at warp eight, given a twelve-hour run at warp nine." Grace replied.

"Got that?" Macen asked.

"Yeah." Parva was less than happy, "We'll make it happen. Count on it."

"Thank you, Parva. I knew I could count on you."

"Here we go with the 'thank you's' again." T'Kir complained loudly, "Don't I get a thank you?"

"Thank you for being partially insane and keeping our lives so interesting." Macen primly responded.

"Was that so hard?" T'Kir asked pleasantly.

"Can we cut the comedy for a moment?" Riker demanded, "How can you be certain those ships were Iotian in origin?"

"Starfleet Intelligence has the Iotians gearing up for refitting their _Constitution_-class ships to line up with the same program Starfleet underwent starting in 2371. All new Iotian Starfleet hulls will be constructed along these lines as well as _Miranda_ and _Oberth_-class hulls. Rather than revamp all of their existing shipyards, they're continuing to produce original model _Constitution_-class and _Mercury_-class analogues for sale."

"Who'd buy a 23rd century model starship?" Riker wondered.

"Less advanced warp cultures, stellar aeronautics museums and, apparently, Solarian Security Systems." Macen answered.

"My God." Riker breathed, "They could rework the entire balance of power in the quadrant."

"Possibly." Macen allowed, "Starfleet Intelligence has feelers out that suggest that Section 31 is already in motion rectifying the situation."

"Scary thought. The Iotians may be pushed into war." Riker worried.

"Generally, S31 is fairly discreet, nearly invisible." Macen reassured his XO, "Besides S31's involvement is nothing but rumours and unofficial worries at this point."

"And when they're official?"

Macen grinned, "Then we'll get sent in."

Riker shook his head. The Federation had just barely survived an insurgency that split the member worlds. Starfleet was still struggling to rectify what had nearly become a civil war. Tensions between starship crews from opposite sides ran high but opposing officers were all allowed to remain in the service with an oath of loyalty to the UFP. Some tensions between the various UFP members ran even higher. The Federation's diplomatic corps and individual planetary ambassadors were still struggling to smooth things over to their pre-crisis state.

Riker was about to relay his concerns when Daggit interrupted from Tactical, "Captain, you have a priority message from Christine Pike coming in."

"Route it to my Ready Room." Macen ordered and left the bridge.

* * *

Seated behind his desk, Macen addressed the built in computer, "Computer display message."

"Identify for security scan." came the computer's female voice.

"Macen, Brin." he replied and waited as the internal sensors matched his biosignature to that on file. After a moment, Pike's dishevelled, harried features appeared on screen.

"Chris, what's happened?" Macen asked as he recognised her location as being the communications room in the underground bunker under Outbound Venture's HQ.

"We were attacked." Pike began to divulge, "It was an orbital bombardment. Solarian Security System's ships assumed orbit and then announced a twenty minute deadline to evacuate the building and then opened fire when the deadline ended."

"Was anyone hurt?" Macen asked horrified by this turn of events.

"Ardra." Pike replied heavily, referring to her assistant, "She went back for some files and the bunker auto sealed. She was running from the building when the attack commenced. The shockwave of the photon blast caught her."

"What did the Barrinoran authorities do?" Macen asked, his anger rising."

"They engaged the Solarian ships. The Solarians lost one ship as the Barrinorans crippled her. The Barrinorans also lost one ship in the exchange. The Solarians were using 23rd century Starfleet vessels. They've taken the Solarian survivors prisoner."

"We're pursuing the ship angle right now." Macen informed her, "The ships are Iotian and we're going to cut off Solarian's supply line."

"Brin," a stricken looking Pike added, "this wasn't the worst of it. Solarian vessels attacked every Outbound Ventures ship. They hit us with two to one odds, all with 23rd century Starfleet ships."

"What are our losses?" Macen grimly asked.

"The _Typhoid _is a complete loss but the survivors were recovered by the convoy they were escorting. The _Mantle_ is crippled and in need of extensive repairs. She isn't under her own power at the moment. The same goes for the _S'harien_, and the _Raptor_. The _Duderion_ was lost with all hands. The others all report thirty to forty percent casualties."

Macen was incensed, "So basically we're what's left of Outbound Ventures."

Pike nodded, "Until the SPYards delivers the Q-ship they've promised and our refitted _Newton_-class."

"The same ship that was to replace the _Duderion_." Macen sorrowfully observed.

"The very same." Pike confirmed, "Now we can cobble together two crews from the survivors of the other ships. We'll have the engineers coming to work for us in the orbital repair facility expedite their travel plans and estimate whether the surviving ships are worth repairing."

"Good plan." Macen acknowledged, "Have you contacted Admiral Drake regarding these events."

"No." Pike heaved a sigh, "I wanted to inform you first and try to warn you that they might be coming after you."

"Too late." Macen's lips quirked in a near grimace, "They've already struck."

"I see you survived." Pike offered a wan smile.

"We have a modern Starfleet vessel. No one else was adequately equipped to survive the firepower they encountered. Civilian raiders and scoutships just don't have the necessary resiliency." Macen assessed.

"So," Pike tried to brighten, "can I inform Admiral Drake what your next move will be?"

"I'm going recruiting." Macen divulged, "Once I've evened the odds, I'll hunt down Solarian Security Systems' ships and reap justice."

Pike frowned, "Amanda won't like that. She'll want you to re-enter the Federation and seek Starfleet's protection."

"Since when have I given a _frinx _about what Amanda wants?" Macen asked flippantly.

"You're sounding more and more like your wife." Pike commented dryly.

Macen shrugged, "Marriage does that."

"Speaking of marriage," Pike segued, "how did the rescue effort go?"

This time Macen did grimace, "Hal bartered himself to buy our freedom. They executed him right there on the street."

Pike's eyes widened, "That's barbaric."

Macen ran his hand through his hair, "It's just as well that we've been banned from the surface of the planet. I'm not sure I wouldn't be tempted to execute a few Troglytes in retaliation."

Pike chuckled then her humour faded as she recognised the cold rage in his eyes and realised that Macen was being serious. She quickly changed the subject.

"Have you informed Kiv Rever of Hal's death?"

Macen seemed to collapse in on himself and then he straightened himself of up with renewed determination, "No. Is he still in one of our safehouses?"

"Safehouse Two to be precise." Pike answered, "Do you want me to inform him?"

"You have enough to do." Macen shook his head, "It's my responsibility. I won't shirk it."

"Good luck." Pike mustered as much enthusiasm as she could.

Macen returned with a bleak smile, "You too."

* * *

Rever was devastated, "It's all my fault."

"No." Macen forcefully asserted, "It wasn't. You may have made an error in judgement by not being discreet enough but it was the Solarian execs that used this information to set Hal up that are ultimately responsible. Even the Troglytes are partially innocent because they were acting out of ignorant fear and backwards customs."

Macen's eyes bored in on Rever's image, "Hal was one of the most brilliant people I've ever met. He was also loyal. He wouldn't begrudge you. He'd stand by you and forgive you. With rare exception, he was generous and forgiving. His kindness and willingness to serve will be sorely missed."

Rever wiped his tears, "So you're saying Hal wouldn't want me to blame myself?"

Macen nodded, "You know it as well as I do."

"It won't be easy." Rever sniffled.

"Start your atonement by telling me everything you know about Solarian Security Systems." Macen suggested.

* * *

Shift change came and went and Macen remained in his Ready Room researching Solarian Security Systems. T'Kir popped in with a tray containing dinner for two.

"I'm sorry." Macen said remorsefully, "I got up with my research."

"Yeah, I got that." she winked, "Telepathic rapport remember? Your shields have been down ever since you talked with Kiv Rever. You've been miserable ever since. Intense but miserable. It's time to lighten the load for an hour or more."

"It's just as well," Macen admitted, "I was just about done here. I was going to brief Tom before I called it a night. You should sit in on this."

"_After _dinner." T'Kir insisted.

"Your wish is my command, milady."

T'Kir wore a wry grin as she lifted the covers off of their plates, "If only."

"You wanted to see me?" Tom asked as he entered the Ready Room.

"Take a seat." Macen insisted, "I have some information you need."

Riker took the chair. T'Kir was curled up on the couch. The computer display just to the right of Macen's position was activated. Solarian Security System's corporate logo was prominently featured.

"Solarian Security Systems has held a Federation letter of marque for over two hundred years. It's considered to be the most prestigious of Security consultation firms." Macen began, "However, over the last four years Outbound Ventures has gouged out a twenty-seven percent cut of their total business. That figure has been steadily growing up until today."

Macen described Pike's report of the Solarian attacks on Outbound Ventures ships and crews. The recounting of the losses sobered both recipients of the recitation. Macen leaned against his desk and prompted the computer to display the next item. It was an advertised order of battle.

"According to Solarian's publications, they possess twelve combat capable vessels at all times." Macen revealed, "This was certainly demonstrated in their proven capability of striking six targets with two to one strength. They may actually have fourteen vessels but the attack on headquarters came several hours after the attack on the _Raptor_ and she was travelling home."

"So a double whammy?" Riker wondered.

"That's my feeling but we'll run with a worst case scenario in our planning." Macen replied.

"What, exactly, are we planning on?" Riker asked with suspicion in his voice.

"We're currently travelling to Iotia." Macen began to answer, "While there, we will ascertain exactly what kind, and how many, of each vessel Solarian ordered. Next, we'll hire the Iotians ourselves to assist us in striking out at Solarian."

"Brin, respectively, we can't afford to be taking out revenge right now." Riker counselled.

"I'm not talking about revenge, I'm talking about _justice_." Macen stressed, "Hal Dracas and all of the dead Outbound Ventures employees were killed in acts of cowardice. I want to see those losses atoned for."

"That's Starfleet's responsibility." Riker rebutted, "Solarian operates within their jurisdiction."

"But most of their attacks took place outside of Federation territory." Macen pointed out.

"It sounds as though you've taken these attacks personally and are acting out a personal vendetta." Riker accused.

"You're damned right I'm acting out of personal rage." Macen said in a low voice, his eyes hardened, "I watched a personal friend get butchered. Over one hundred of my employees are now dead. I want to see the people responsible pay for those crimes. _I _want to be on hand when the Solarian employees and execs that planned and carried out these acts are apprehended."

"Why not simply execute them?" Riker's voice grew more resolute.

"I'm tempted." Macen admitted, "But I want to see legal justice done in order to prove to these people that laws exist and are enforced. As long as these people surrender, they'll live."

"And if they don't?" Riker demanded.

Macen shrugged, "They take their chances."

Riker stood suddenly, his features livid, "I won't be a party to this."

"Then you're relieved of duty for the duration."

Riker stiffened, "Very well. May I be dismissed?"

Macen folded his hands, "You may leave. Inform the shift's duty officer that you're relieved until further notice."

"Yes sir." Riker said stiffly and exited the room.

T'Kir hesitated for a moment then commented, "That's one unhappy boy."

Macen leaned back in his chair, "It'll do him good to sit this one out. If he's going to have a moral crisis, I want him off the bridge while he's having it."

"Hey, you'll get no arguments from me." T'Kir held up her hands, "I want to get Solarian as badly as you do."

Macen ruefully smiled, "You're probably the only one aboard besides Rab Daggit that would understand the strength of that feeling."

"We've buried too many friends." T'Kir opined, "A line needs to be drawn somewhere."

"It's more than that." Macen informed her, "Almost everyone else died during combat. That's expected. This was an unprovoked ambush. I won't let that go unanswered."

"You shouldn't have to." T'Kir agreed, "So we start with the Iotians. What comes next?"

"Depends on how many ships we can talk the Iotian Starfleet out of." Macen confessed.

"If they give us twelve or thirteen ships?

"Then we mount an immediate strike against Solarian."

"And if they don't?" T'Kir asked.

"Then we go to Plan B."

"Which is?" T'Kir prompted.

Macen grinned, "I'll hold that one in reserve."

"You poophead." T'Kir pouted.

"I believe there's an appropriate adage about sticks and stones that applies here." Macen's grin blossomed into a smile.

"Nice to see that back." T'Kir commented.

"Thanks for brining it back." Macen bowed his head.

"Let's say we blow this room and go have some fun?"

"Sounds good." Macen agreed, "Any ideas?"

"Sex is good." T'Kir playfully suggested.

"Fates, you're insatiable." Macen shook his head.

"Reminds me I'm alive." T'Kir replied with a smile, "Besides, I have to put the passion in 'passionate Vulcan'."

"You succeed, trust me." Macen confessed.

"Good." T'Kir's smile grew brighter, "So how about some time in the gym and then some nooky?"

"I bow to your superior wisdom." Macen conceded.

"Good, otherwise I'd have to hurt you." T'Kir advised, "Besides, this way you can take out your anger and frustration on me. Should make for a wild ride."

"It should at that." Macen admitted.

T'Kir ran around the desk and kissed Macen on the cheek, "Lookin' forward to it. Now, c'mon."

Taking him by the hand, she led him out of the Ready Room and to the turbolift. Shannon Forger and the rest of the Gamma shift crew were amused to see their Captain and wife so playful.


	5. Chapter 5

84

Ten minutes before the alpha shift was to begin, Macen contacted the Investigative Team and requested their presence in the main briefing room. Each officer in turn contacted their reliefs and ordered them to the bridge and Engineering. Kort merely called his fellow alpha shift med staffers and informed them that he would be briefly detained and to contact him in the course of an emergency. For Parva it meant that she wouldn't relieve her deputy chief engineer, Gilan.

Everyone gathered at the appointed place by the time their shift was due to begin. All had taken the opportunity to grab an extra mugfull of their beverage of choice. Coffee, in all its varied forms, dominated the selections. Parva preferred an Acamarian spice tea and Danan preferred a chilled Andorian elixir that Rhiann had introduced her to.

Macen sat at the head of the conference table. The room's primary display was just above his right shoulder. T'Kir, having already heard the news, had gone to the bridge to relieve Shannon Forger. The others assembled around the table and looked around.

"Where's Tom?" Radil asked.

"He's been relieved of duty." Danan answered before Macen could speak. Obviously Danan and Riker were continuing their nightly "debriefings". Macen wondered how thorough these exchanges were becoming.

"Is this true?" Grace yelped.

Macen nodded, "Tom objected to the action plan I'm about to present to you. Rather than force him into a conflicted position, I relieved him of duty for the duration."

"And what of us?" Kort enquired, "If we object, will we be relieved as well?"

Macen levelled his gaze on Kort and said firmly, "Yes, you will Doctor."

Macen activated the display, "After you see and hear the reasoning behind my plan, I think you'll agree that it's the wisest course of action."

Macen reiterated the presentation he'd made to Riker and T'Kir. Expressions had sobered considerably. He let the information sink in while he waited.

"And you're not letting Starfleet handle this because…?" Danan asked archly.

"Because we have a firmer grasp of the situation and a better chance of capturing the guilty parties." Macen replied.

"How?" she enquired, "By using mercenaries?"

"Our forces will be highly motivated to see this mission through." Macen explained, "The Iotians will be preserving their reputation as responsible shipwrights that only release their products into safe and qualified hands."

"You think they'll care?" Danan wondered.

"I do." Macen answered, "They want to legitimately expand their business. That won't happen if their first clients become little more than overpowered pirates."

"I still think you're relying too much on the Iotians' desire for credibility." Danan folded her arms.

"You're entitled to your opinion." Macen ended the debate and looked around, "Anyone else?"

"These 'Solarians' are dishonourable cowards. We must find them and crush them." Kort declared.

Radil patted Kort's arm, "I won't go that far but I have no problem with us doing the appropriate butt kicking ourselves."

"I'm for it." Grace chimed in.

"I only have one question." Parva announced and leaned forward, "Will we execute the guilty?"

Macen shook his head, "No. We're going in to capture and release to the proper authorities. I say we need to do this ourselves because Solarian will just present doctored ships' logs showing that their vessels were all gainfully employed at other locations."

Macen folded his hands together in front of him, "Christine Pike is compiling the sensor readings from our surviving ships but it turns into a case of our word against theirs. Their lawyers can drag this process out for years."

Macen leaned forward, "I'm all for due process but I say we take their headquarters and pull the damning evidence out of their own databases. Starfleet will be hampered by regulations and procedures that we, acting as privateers, can kindly sidestep."

Daggit released a long breath of air, puffing his cheeks out, "Put that way, I don't see how anyone can object to our taking this on."

"I can." Danan said and looked squarely at Macen, "You'll have to count me out on this one too, Brin."

Macen nodded, "I understand. You and Tom try and enjoy at least a little bit of your time off. Too many ethical crises can age you."

"Is that why you're so ageless, you have no conscience?" Danan flung at him.

Macen's features hardened with resolve, "I would think that you would know better."

Danan nodded at her former lover, "You're right. That was unfair of me. You're being understanding and trying to allow me to protect my moral toes and I'm being a guttersnipe. Forgive me."

"No problem." Macen said but remained stern, "A lapse here and there is understandable."

"If you'll excuse me." Danan requested and rose at Macen's nod. She left the briefing and sought out Riker. She found him in the gym and asked him to follow her to the Team Room. It was full of just relieved gamma shift crewmen and the noise would drown out their conversation.

* * *

Back in the briefing room, Macen was concluding the briefing, "T'Kir is going to collate all of our sensor data on the two ships that attacked and use it to provide the Iotian Starfleet a clear picture of what's being done with their products."

"I still don't see why they'll care." Daggit admitted.

"If the ships were being used to conduct a war, that's an affair of state. Stellar nations war against one another all the time." Macen paused to allow Daggit time to recall the Tarsus wars and the Dominion War, "This was an act of piracy. Mercenary piracy at that. If it becomes known that Iotia will sell to anyone, including pirates and criminals, then the legitimate buyers will stop coming and all that'll be left is the criminals. Eventually the criminals will turn on them and attempt to take what they want by force. The Iotians' unique history grants them a keener insight into the criminal mind then you'll find with the average Federation citizen."

Daggit nodded, shrugged and grinned, "I see. Thank you for that clarification. There goes my last qualm."

Suddenly the meeting was interrupted by Macen's chirping comm badge. Macen tapped it and waited to see who was calling. He was somewhat relieved that T'Kir's voice came across the circuit.

"Sorry to interrupt but you've got an urgent hail."

"From who?" Macen frowned.

"Admiral Drake."

Macen sighed, "All right. We were almost done here anyway. Pipe the message here."

"Gotcha." T'Kir was far too chipper for Macen's taste. She could taste his irritation and discomfort via their telepathic rapport. She found his uneasiness amusing.

The rest of the team excused themselves and left Macen alone with the computer's monitor, "Computer, accept the incoming signal."

Admiral Amanda Drake looked harried and gravely tired, "Whatever it is you're planning on doing, stop."

Macen looked innocent and pointed at himself, "Am I planning on doing something?"

"Dammit Brin!" Drake snapped, "Chris has already told me about what happened. You're too bull-headed not to respond to this yourself. I just got done with a rather heated discussion with Tom Riker where he claims you're recruiting the Iotian Starfleet to wage a private war with Solarian Security Systems."

"I wouldn't call it a war." Macen replied calmly.

"So it's true then?" Drake waved her hand, warding off his reply, "Don't answer that. I already know the answer. Let's settle for 'what would you call it'?"

"A police action." Macen said, "I plan on arresting everyone at Solarian's primary operations hub and conducting an investigation as to what happened yesterday."

"I keep forgetting that you have your ship's shift schedule based upon the Barrinoran day." Drake rubbed her temples, "Brin, this is a job for the traditional fleet forces. I can authorise you to investigate Iotia's ties into this matter but no more."

"But will you?" Macen said wearing a wry expression.

"Will I what?" Drake asked, obviously confused.

"Will you authorise my investigations?" Macen said slowly.

"I may be bone tired Brin but I heard that plural." Drake sighed, "I said 'investigation', singular. There will not be an SID investigation into this matter. Not without more compelling evidence. This is something ships of the line can handle. We do actually have a few competent starship crews, you know?"

Macen heaved a massive sigh, "All right, Amanda. I'll try playing it your way. But if the Iotians give up _anything_ its back to plan A."

"I'm still not comfortable with your using the Iotians." Drake informed Macen, "They're unstable. That's why the Federation has only maintained limited contact with them since they stole warp technology from us."

Macen grinned, "They tapped into an educational seminar on warp mechanics and engineering. It was a primer for high school students."

"All of this is because of that damned communicator." Drake shook her head, "Admiral McCoy is a lovable old coot but I could strangle him for leaving his communicator behind."

"Now I know you're tired." Macen chuckled, "What's keeping you up late?"

"Team 4's latest investigation has led to the Orion Syndicate and we've just exchanged bloody noses." Drake's reply reminded Macen that his group was dubbed Team 1. It was a dubious honour bestowed upon the original SID team. It also was indicative of Drake's concern for her people.

"Losses happen, Amanda, you know that as well as I do." Macen said quietly.

She returned with a fierce gaze that gradually melted away into a sorrowful expression, "And that's why I'll add this caveat to your orders, in memory of Hal Dracas, if your investigation leads to a tie to Solarian Security Systems _and _falls within our established mandates, I hereby authorise you to take whatever actions you deem necessary to bring these killers to justice."

Drake held up a finger, "_But_ that narrows the scope of your authorisation. If you stray from these parameters or indulge in any creative interpretation of my orders, I'll charge you with insubordination and throw you to the wolves."

Drake graced Macen with a nasty smile, "I'm sure Edward Jellico would love to have an excuse to convene a court-martial on your behalf."

Yeah," Macen responded with a rueful grin, "I'm certain Old Iron Butt would love to try and hang me."

"Let me guess, another of T'Kir's alliterations?" Drake asked dryly.

"Got it in one." Macen proudly smiled.

"You know, she might not be quite so…eccentric if you didn't encourage her erratic behaviours."

Macen shook his head, "The erratic behaviours are her chief attraction."

"That's because you're mental too." Drake opined.

Macen gave her a mock bow, "Thank you for all the gracious praise but really, it's too much."

"Case in point, everyone else would find that insulting but you take it as a compliment." Drake slowly shook her head.

"Speaking of bent characters," Macen said with sudden realisation, "tell the Bajoran Militia that we have a present for them."

Drake's eyebrows quirked and Macen elucidated, "We have Harry Mudd IV in custody."

"So someone finally corralled that rogue." Drake brightened, "I'll call the Militia in the morning. Is he in the brig?"

"So far he's got the run of the nonrestricted areas of the ship supervised at all times by an armed escort." Macen explained.

Drake pursed her lips and rested her forefinger on her chin, "I think it would be better to put him in the brig. You're going into a potentially hostile situation and you'll need your Security forces unencumbered."

"I'm going to get an earful from Mudd but I'll gladly throw him into lockdown and disable the forcefield's deactivation button." Macen said with an anticipatory grin.

"I'm glad that was so easily settled." Drake said with a wry grin, "Normally, every order or suggestion I make becomes a negotiation."

Macen put a hand on each cheek and adopted a horrified look, "No!"

"Knock it off wise guy." Drake warned, "I don't know why I tolerate your attitude."

"Because my team and I are the best you have." Macen replied sagely.

"If only that weren't true." Drake said wistfully, "Life would be so much easier."

"Already regretting reinstating the SID privateer program?" Macen chastised her, "I gave it another month before you gave up on that policy _again_."

Drake's lips puckered, "Why a month?"

"I assumed my investigation and subsequent operations would be concluded in a month."

"Operations?" Drake's frowned.

"Well, after securing the operations hub, I'd have to come to Earth and arrest the chief executives in corporate headquarters." Macen nonchalantly responded.

Drake's eyes widened, "You were going to conduct a raid in the very heart of Starfleet?"

Macen sighed, "This attitude is why I don't want this matter left up to the fleet. This Solarian operation has to have been authorised at the highest echelon of the corporate chain of command."

"I still find it improbable that Solarian Security Systems attacked you. I think you'll find it was the Iotians themselves that mounted this operation." Drake countered, "They could have duplicated Solarian's ID transponder codes the same way they've duplicated 23rd century Starfleet technology. Solarian is the most trusted privateer organisation in the Federation. They've been in business since the 22nd century. They have more of Starfleet's trust than any other security firm in the Federation with the exception of Outbound Ventures."

"The fact that every one of your employees and captains is either ex-Starfleet or a former SID agent garners you more trust than even Solarian commands." Drake assured Macen, "Someone could have hired the Iotians to shut you down and frame Solarian's people. With the two top convoy escort firms out of business trade routes across the Federation and beyond would suddenly become fair game for raiders."

Macen thought about it and conceded she had a point, "I hadn't thought of that."

"You've been distracted by you grief over the Chief's death." Drake observed, "Strong emotion will throw anybody's game off."

Macen wore a rueful grin, "_I'm _the empath, remember? I recognise the truth behind your observation more than the average humanoid. This lapse is embarrassing."

"I'm not saying I'm right, but it's something to keep in mind." Drake suggested.

"I certainly will." a humbled Macen replied, "This changes my whole approach with the Iotians."

"I wish you luck, Brin." Drake said earnestly, "I want to see Hal Dracas' murderers caught as badly as you do."

"We'll take the luck, and a sobered commanding officer, and see what we come up with." Macen promised.

"Report as soon as you find anything out." Drake insisted.

"I will. As soon as I'm able to I'll report any and all findings." Macen swore.

"And if it actually happens, I'll know that miracles never cease." Drake laughed and then signed off.

* * *

Macen rubbed his chin as he pondered Drake's theory and knew that it had more merit than his own original concept. The turning in of Dracas to the Troglytes still had Solarian's stink all over it, as did the "coincidence" of the _Obsidian _being attacked in the Ardannian system. It was entirely too possible that Solarian had hired the Iotians to do the dirty work while they sat back and reaped the benefits. It was also a distinct possibility that this was a rogue operation within the ranks of Solarian itself.

With this adjusted framework in mind, Macen exited the briefing room and made his way to the nearest turbolift. He named the bridge as his destination and settled in to enjoy the brief ride. When he strode onto the bridge he was surprised to find T'Kir still occupying his seat.

"Bucking for a promotion?" he teased as he rounded the dual command station and faced her.

"Yah," she grinned like a naughty child, "this command stuff looks pretty easy. Thought I might try it out for awhile."

Macen searched the room and was surprised to find Radil present on the bridge, conversing with Daggit, "Jenrya, I need you to place Mr. Mudd in the brig for the duration."

"Thank the Prophets." she burst out, "It's about _frinxing _time."

"Rab, you have the bridge." Macen informed him, "I need to speak with T'Kir in my Ready Room."

"This just an excuse to hold a make out session, isn't it?" Grace chimed in.

"Hannah, you're more than welcome to join us." Macen invited her.

"Where's the fun in that?" Grace demanded, "Takes all the joy out of the innuendo."

"You'll survive." Macen said and took T'Kir's hand to guide her out of the command chair and towards his office.

* * *

Later inside the Ready Room, after Macen had described Drake's theory to T'Kir and Macen's further deductions based upon that theory, T'Kir whistled; "Seems like the good Admiral has beaten you at your own game."

Macen shrugged, "Amanda Drake was something of a young turk in Starfleet Intelligence's Operations Division. I was the premier star of the Analysis Division before my transfer to Ops. It's no shame to be second guessed by her."

"It's just such a rare thing." T'Kir said with a victorious smile, "You never admit you're wrong and it's something of a thrill to see it happen."

"I admit when I'm wrong." Macen said defensively.

"Like, once a year." T'Kir retorted.

"So?" Macen insisted, "It just means I'm only wrong once a year."

"Oh, the sound of expanding egos rapidly filling this room." T'Kir accused.

"All right. I may have a slight problem with admitting I'm wrong." Macen conceded, "But you have to admit, I'm proven right rather than wrong more often than not."

"You get lucky." T'Kir countered.

Macen rolled his eyes and T'Kir laughed, "Okay, maybe you are almost as good as you think you are."

T'Kir knew that Macen was actually more humble then he was letting on. As the Mission Commander of the SID team and Commanding Officer of the _Obsidian_, Macen had to project an aura of invincibility in order to inspire the troops and inspire them to outperform themselves. It was a technique taught to every cadet at Starfleet Academy but it still worked.

Besides, Macen actually did proceed with a certain sense of destiny and invincibility. He was so certain of the course he'd plotted that he would proceed headlong into the very fires of Hell because he _knew _he'd survive to tell the tale. A great deal of this stemmed from Macen's ability to read time-space probabilities, or the Currents as the El-Aurians called them. Macen was in a very real sense guided by his intuitive grasp on what may happen over the next few hours.

T'Kir had never before encountered such a sensation until Macen had finally allowed her into his mind. What had once seemed to be a masterful analytic ability proved to instead be a knack for feeling his way through a situation. Combined with his low level empathic talents, Macen's gifts attested to an arcane knowledge of a hidden world. It was an ability that had been honed by the Seekers of Truth and amplified by the Nexus.

But all of this was predicated on Macen's accurate interpretation of the salient facts and his own instincts. This was an example of how Macen had superimposed what he wanted to be over what probably was. T'Kir shuddered to think of what may have happened if the _Obsidian _had blindly flown into the Iotians' arms. She doubted if even Daggit and Grace's enhanced reflexes could have ensured enough survival time to allow the outgunned surveyor to flee.

Thinking of Grace made T'Kir reflect upon her fair skinned friend. Grace typically wore her shoulder length blonde tresses pulled back. Her large brown doe eyes could flash with wrath or melt your heart with heartbreaking vulnerability. Grace's figure nearly mirrored T'Kir's own voluptuous form.

Grace owed her Germanic goddess looks and figure to the perfect genome inherent to the Kelvans' adopted human forms. Grace was stronger, faster, and smarter than the average Terran. Grace had opted to live as a human amongst her teammates rather than to return to New Kelva. She was rapidly learning what it meant to be fully human.

Rab Daggit, on the other hand, was a study of granite features and a body hewn out of solid rock and sculpted into a model of physical fitness. His close-cropped, greying brown hair was in constant danger of being shaven off altogether. The purple and grey mark on his right temple denoted where the Angosian military scientists had implanted the control to the psychological conditioning that enabled him to become the perfect soldier. Various other implants throughout his nervous and endocrine systems and his musculature enhanced his physical capabilities by a hundred fold.

Daggit's relationship with Parva was grounding the former commando and reintroducing him to his emotional side. Their flowering love affair was a sight to behold. She was all passion and fierceness and he was all controlled power and lethality. It made for some rousing trysts and even more spectacular fights.

The thought of Parva amused T'Kir. The Orion engineer was uncomfortable around the Vulcan. Parva feared a telepathic probe from T'Kir. The truth was that in her previous, less medicated state T'Kir had scanned Parva's mind in an unguarded moment. The former sex slave's past elicited a protective sympathy from T'Kir and she had shared Parva's secrets with no one outside of Macen, who would likely pick up on T'Kir's thoughts when she was ruminating on the matter.

Parva's raven hair was banded by two platinum streaks that framed her face. She'd recently trimmed her previously wild mane of hair back into a jaw length bob. Her eyes were nearly black, a rarity amongst Orions that had made her extremely desired and valuable amongst the slave traders. She'd had her revenge though, first by escaping and fleeing to the Federation where she had learned a trade and specialised in starship engineering and maintenance. After she'd spent time as an engineer for a major shipping firm she'd subsequently been posted as a project manager at Utopia Planetia.

It was there that Hal Dracas had met her and later recommended her to be his replacement while he left on a sabbatical with the Baku. She introduced a new element into the team: unbridled restlessness. She was constantly tinkering with the ship's systems and the weapons in the armoury to improve their capabilities and performance. Daggit took the edge off and grounded her.

Macen interrupted her reverie, "You're lost in thought."

She smiled, "Just reflecting on the mission and members of the team."

"Anything I should know?" Macen's right eyebrow rose.

T'Kir shook her head, "Nothing important. It can wait for a private moment."

"This _is _a private moment." Macen remarked.

"I mean it's nothing that can't wait until we're off duty." T'Kir laughed.

"Well," Macen propped his cheek up with his fist, "That leaves calling Tom and Lees and calling another briefing session."

"You think they'll want to attend?" T'Kir was surprised.

"I think they'll sign back on with our new mission parameters." Macen replied, "If not, we can still proceed without them."

I have to admit I never thought I'd see the day that there'd be dissension in the ranks." T'Kir admitted, "Up till now you've had quite a cult of personality going."

"Nothing lasts forever." Macen said sagely, "Lees has her own reasons for being reserved about any call I make and Tom should be in command of his own ship rather than being XO for this one."

"No arguments here." T'Kir said and uncurled from the couch, "Want me to summon everyone to the briefing room and get the reliefs back here."

"If you would." Macen bestowed her with a grateful smile, "I'll handle the calls to Tom and Lees personally."

"Natch." T'Kir said and rose. She'd tapped her comm badge and was conversing with one of the relief officers as she exited.

Macen took a deep breath and tapped his own comm badge, "Riker."

The computer cycled the call to the appropriate comm badge and Riker groggily responded, "Riker here."

"Tom, it's Brin. I need you to attend a briefing in fifteen minutes. There's been some new information come to light and we're changing our operations plan."

"What kind of 'change'?" Riker asked with suspicion.

"We're investigating the Iotians rather than recruiting them." Macen informed him, "My approach was wrong because, as you said, I let my emotions cloud the issue. Admiral Drake and I had a nice long talk and she presented me with an alternative theory I think bears investigating."

"Well, good. I'll be there in a few." Riker replied.

"Now I'll call Lees and hopefully she'll come as well." Macen said.

"Don't…bother calling her." Riker sounded hesitant, "She's heard every word you've said and she's coming as well."

"What? Oh…I see. Are congratulations in order?" Macen asked.

"I'd like to think so. Everything has been rather impromptu." Riker confessed, "We're still sorting through it all."

Macen chuckled, "Well, keep me informed. I'm glad you'll be at the briefing. It didn't feel right going into action without you, either of you."

"It's good to be back." Riker replied, "I hope."

"Trust me." Macen said, "You'll be pleased with the new mission parameters."

"Hope to find that out." Riker said, "But we'll be seriously late if you don't cut the line and let us shower."

"Right." Macen said and terminated the connection.

_Tom and Lees. _he thought, _Can't say T'Kir and I didn't see that one coming. I wonder how Hannah is going to react?_


	6. Chapter 6

84

Ten minutes before the alpha shift was to begin, Macen contacted the Investigative Team and requested their presence in the main briefing room. Each officer in turn contacted their reliefs and ordered them to the bridge and Engineering. Kort merely called his fellow alpha shift med staffers and informed them that he would be briefly detained and to contact him in the course of an emergency. For Parva it meant that she wouldn't relieve her deputy chief engineer, Gilan.

Everyone gathered at the appointed place by the time their shift was due to begin. All had taken the opportunity to grab an extra mugfull of their beverage of choice. Coffee, in all its varied forms, dominated the selections. Parva preferred an Acamarian spice tea and Danan preferred a chilled Andorian elixir that Rhiann had introduced her to.

Macen sat at the head of the conference table. The room's primary display was just above his right shoulder. T'Kir, having already heard the news, had gone to the bridge to relieve Shannon Forger. The others assembled around the table and looked around.

"Where's Tom?" Radil asked.

"He's been relieved of duty." Danan answered before Macen could speak. Obviously Danan and Riker were continuing their nightly "debriefings". Macen wondered how thorough these exchanges were becoming.

"Is this true?" Grace yelped.

Macen nodded, "Tom objected to the action plan I'm about to present to you. Rather than force him into a conflicted position, I relieved him of duty for the duration."

"And what of us?" Kort enquired, "If we object, will we be relieved as well?"

Macen levelled his gaze on Kort and said firmly, "Yes, you will Doctor."

Macen activated the display, "After you see and hear the reasoning behind my plan, I think you'll agree that it's the wisest course of action."

Macen reiterated the presentation he'd made to Riker and T'Kir. Expressions had sobered considerably. He let the information sink in while he waited.

"And you're not letting Starfleet handle this because…?" Danan asked archly.

"Because we have a firmer grasp of the situation and a better chance of capturing the guilty parties." Macen replied.

"How?" she enquired, "By using mercenaries?"

"Our forces will be highly motivated to see this mission through." Macen explained, "The Iotians will be preserving their reputation as responsible shipwrights that only release their products into safe and qualified hands."

"You think they'll care?" Danan wondered.

"I do." Macen answered, "They want to legitimately expand their business. That won't happen if their first clients become little more than overpowered pirates."

"I still think you're relying too much on the Iotians' desire for credibility." Danan folded her arms.

"You're entitled to your opinion." Macen ended the debate and looked around, "Anyone else?"

"These 'Solarians' are dishonourable cowards. We must find them and crush them." Kort declared.

Radil patted Kort's arm, "I won't go that far but I have no problem with us doing the appropriate butt kicking ourselves."

"I'm for it." Grace chimed in.

"I only have one question." Parva announced and leaned forward, "Will we execute the guilty?"

Macen shook his head, "No. We're going in to capture and release to the proper authorities. I say we need to do this ourselves because Solarian will just present doctored ships' logs showing that their vessels were all gainfully employed at other locations."

Macen folded his hands together in front of him, "Christine Pike is compiling the sensor readings from our surviving ships but it turns into a case of our word against theirs. Their lawyers can drag this process out for years."

Macen leaned forward, "I'm all for due process but I say we take their headquarters and pull the damning evidence out of their own databases. Starfleet will be hampered by regulations and procedures that we, acting as privateers, can kindly sidestep."

Daggit released a long breath of air, puffing his cheeks out, "Put that way, I don't see how anyone can object to our taking this on."

"I can." Danan said and looked squarely at Macen, "You'll have to count me out on this one too, Brin."

Macen nodded, "I understand. You and Tom try and enjoy at least a little bit of your time off. Too many ethical crises can age you."

"Is that why you're so ageless, you have no conscience?" Danan flung at him.

Macen's features hardened with resolve, "I would think that you would know better."

Danan nodded at her former lover, "You're right. That was unfair of me. You're being understanding and trying to allow me to protect my moral toes and I'm being a guttersnipe. Forgive me."

"No problem." Macen said but remained stern, "A lapse here and there is understandable."

"If you'll excuse me." Danan requested and rose at Macen's nod. She left the briefing and sought out Riker. She found him in the gym and asked him to follow her to the Team Room. It was full of just relieved gamma shift crewmen and the noise would drown out their conversation.

* * *

Back in the briefing room, Macen was concluding the briefing, "T'Kir is going to collate all of our sensor data on the two ships that attacked and use it to provide the Iotian Starfleet a clear picture of what's being done with their products."

"I still don't see why they'll care." Daggit admitted.

"If the ships were being used to conduct a war, that's an affair of state. Stellar nations war against one another all the time." Macen paused to allow Daggit time to recall the Tarsus wars and the Dominion War, "This was an act of piracy. Mercenary piracy at that. If it becomes known that Iotia will sell to anyone, including pirates and criminals, then the legitimate buyers will stop coming and all that'll be left is the criminals. Eventually the criminals will turn on them and attempt to take what they want by force. The Iotians' unique history grants them a keener insight into the criminal mind then you'll find with the average Federation citizen."

Daggit nodded, shrugged and grinned, "I see. Thank you for that clarification. There goes my last qualm."

Suddenly the meeting was interrupted by Macen's chirping comm badge. Macen tapped it and waited to see who was calling. He was somewhat relieved that T'Kir's voice came across the circuit.

"Sorry to interrupt but you've got an urgent hail."

"From who?" Macen frowned.

"Admiral Drake."

Macen sighed, "All right. We were almost done here anyway. Pipe the message here."

"Gotcha." T'Kir was far too chipper for Macen's taste. She could taste his irritation and discomfort via their telepathic rapport. She found his uneasiness amusing.

The rest of the team excused themselves and left Macen alone with the computer's monitor, "Computer, accept the incoming signal."

Admiral Amanda Drake looked harried and gravely tired, "Whatever it is you're planning on doing, stop."

Macen looked innocent and pointed at himself, "Am I planning on doing something?"

"Dammit Brin!" Drake snapped, "Chris has already told me about what happened. You're too bull-headed not to respond to this yourself. I just got done with a rather heated discussion with Tom Riker where he claims you're recruiting the Iotian Starfleet to wage a private war with Solarian Security Systems."

"I wouldn't call it a war." Macen replied calmly.

"So it's true then?" Drake waved her hand, warding off his reply, "Don't answer that. I already know the answer. Let's settle for 'what would you call it'?"

"A police action." Macen said, "I plan on arresting everyone at Solarian's primary operations hub and conducting an investigation as to what happened yesterday."

"I keep forgetting that you have your ship's shift schedule based upon the Barrinoran day." Drake rubbed her temples, "Brin, this is a job for the traditional fleet forces. I can authorise you to investigate Iotia's ties into this matter but no more."

"But will you?" Macen said wearing a wry expression.

"Will I what?" Drake asked, obviously confused.

"Will you authorise my investigations?" Macen said slowly.

"I may be bone tired Brin but I heard that plural." Drake sighed, "I said 'investigation', singular. There will not be an SID investigation into this matter. Not without more compelling evidence. This is something ships of the line can handle. We do actually have a few competent starship crews, you know?"

Macen heaved a massive sigh, "All right, Amanda. I'll try playing it your way. But if the Iotians give up _anything_ its back to plan A."

"I'm still not comfortable with your using the Iotians." Drake informed Macen, "They're unstable. That's why the Federation has only maintained limited contact with them since they stole warp technology from us."

Macen grinned, "They tapped into an educational seminar on warp mechanics and engineering. It was a primer for high school students."

"All of this is because of that damned communicator." Drake shook her head, "Admiral McCoy is a lovable old coot but I could strangle him for leaving his communicator behind."

"Now I know you're tired." Macen chuckled, "What's keeping you up late?"

"Team 4's latest investigation has led to the Orion Syndicate and we've just exchanged bloody noses." Drake's reply reminded Macen that his group was dubbed Team 1. It was a dubious honour bestowed upon the original SID team. It also was indicative of Drake's concern for her people.

"Losses happen, Amanda, you know that as well as I do." Macen said quietly.

She returned with a fierce gaze that gradually melted away into a sorrowful expression, "And that's why I'll add this caveat to your orders, in memory of Hal Dracas, if your investigation leads to a tie to Solarian Security Systems _and _falls within our established mandates, I hereby authorise you to take whatever actions you deem necessary to bring these killers to justice."

Drake held up a finger, "_But_ that narrows the scope of your authorisation. If you stray from these parameters or indulge in any creative interpretation of my orders, I'll charge you with insubordination and throw you to the wolves."

Drake graced Macen with a nasty smile, "I'm sure Edward Jellico would love to have an excuse to convene a court-martial on your behalf."

Yeah," Macen responded with a rueful grin, "I'm certain Old Iron Butt would love to try and hang me."

"Let me guess, another of T'Kir's alliterations?" Drake asked dryly.

"Got it in one." Macen proudly smiled.

"You know, she might not be quite so…eccentric if you didn't encourage her erratic behaviours."

Macen shook his head, "The erratic behaviours are her chief attraction."

"That's because you're mental too." Drake opined.

Macen gave her a mock bow, "Thank you for all the gracious praise but really, it's too much."

"Case in point, everyone else would find that insulting but you take it as a compliment." Drake slowly shook her head.

"Speaking of bent characters," Macen said with sudden realisation, "tell the Bajoran Militia that we have a present for them."

Drake's eyebrows quirked and Macen elucidated, "We have Harry Mudd IV in custody."

"So someone finally corralled that rogue." Drake brightened, "I'll call the Militia in the morning. Is he in the brig?"

"So far he's got the run of the nonrestricted areas of the ship supervised at all times by an armed escort." Macen explained.

Drake pursed her lips and rested her forefinger on her chin, "I think it would be better to put him in the brig. You're going into a potentially hostile situation and you'll need your Security forces unencumbered."

"I'm going to get an earful from Mudd but I'll gladly throw him into lockdown and disable the forcefield's deactivation button." Macen said with an anticipatory grin.

"I'm glad that was so easily settled." Drake said with a wry grin, "Normally, every order or suggestion I make becomes a negotiation."

Macen put a hand on each cheek and adopted a horrified look, "No!"

"Knock it off wise guy." Drake warned, "I don't know why I tolerate your attitude."

"Because my team and I are the best you have." Macen replied sagely.

"If only that weren't true." Drake said wistfully, "Life would be so much easier."

"Already regretting reinstating the SID privateer program?" Macen chastised her, "I gave it another month before you gave up on that policy _again_."

Drake's lips puckered, "Why a month?"

"I assumed my investigation and subsequent operations would be concluded in a month."

"Operations?" Drake's frowned.

"Well, after securing the operations hub, I'd have to come to Earth and arrest the chief executives in corporate headquarters." Macen nonchalantly responded.

Drake's eyes widened, "You were going to conduct a raid in the very heart of Starfleet?"

Macen sighed, "This attitude is why I don't want this matter left up to the fleet. This Solarian operation has to have been authorised at the highest echelon of the corporate chain of command."

"I still find it improbable that Solarian Security Systems attacked you. I think you'll find it was the Iotians themselves that mounted this operation." Drake countered, "They could have duplicated Solarian's ID transponder codes the same way they've duplicated 23rd century Starfleet technology. Solarian is the most trusted privateer organisation in the Federation. They've been in business since the 22nd century. They have more of Starfleet's trust than any other security firm in the Federation with the exception of Outbound Ventures."

"The fact that every one of your employees and captains is either ex-Starfleet or a former SID agent garners you more trust than even Solarian commands." Drake assured Macen, "Someone could have hired the Iotians to shut you down and frame Solarian's people. With the two top convoy escort firms out of business trade routes across the Federation and beyond would suddenly become fair game for raiders."

Macen thought about it and conceded she had a point, "I hadn't thought of that."

"You've been distracted by you grief over the Chief's death." Drake observed, "Strong emotion will throw anybody's game off."

Macen wore a rueful grin, "_I'm _the empath, remember? I recognise the truth behind your observation more than the average humanoid. This lapse is embarrassing."

"I'm not saying I'm right, but it's something to keep in mind." Drake suggested.

"I certainly will." a humbled Macen replied, "This changes my whole approach with the Iotians."

"I wish you luck, Brin." Drake said earnestly, "I want to see Hal Dracas' murderers caught as badly as you do."

"We'll take the luck, and a sobered commanding officer, and see what we come up with." Macen promised.

"Report as soon as you find anything out." Drake insisted.

"I will. As soon as I'm able to I'll report any and all findings." Macen swore.

"And if it actually happens, I'll know that miracles never cease." Drake laughed and then signed off.

* * *

Macen rubbed his chin as he pondered Drake's theory and knew that it had more merit than his own original concept. The turning in of Dracas to the Troglytes still had Solarian's stink all over it, as did the "coincidence" of the _Obsidian _being attacked in the Ardannian system. It was entirely too possible that Solarian had hired the Iotians to do the dirty work while they sat back and reaped the benefits. It was also a distinct possibility that this was a rogue operation within the ranks of Solarian itself.

With this adjusted framework in mind, Macen exited the briefing room and made his way to the nearest turbolift. He named the bridge as his destination and settled in to enjoy the brief ride. When he strode onto the bridge he was surprised to find T'Kir still occupying his seat.

"Bucking for a promotion?" he teased as he rounded the dual command station and faced her.

"Yah," she grinned like a naughty child, "this command stuff looks pretty easy. Thought I might try it out for awhile."

Macen searched the room and was surprised to find Radil present on the bridge, conversing with Daggit, "Jenrya, I need you to place Mr. Mudd in the brig for the duration."

"Thank the Prophets." she burst out, "It's about _frinxing _time."

"Rab, you have the bridge." Macen informed him, "I need to speak with T'Kir in my Ready Room."

"This just an excuse to hold a make out session, isn't it?" Grace chimed in.

"Hannah, you're more than welcome to join us." Macen invited her.

"Where's the fun in that?" Grace demanded, "Takes all the joy out of the innuendo."

"You'll survive." Macen said and took T'Kir's hand to guide her out of the command chair and towards his office.

* * *

Later inside the Ready Room, after Macen had described Drake's theory to T'Kir and Macen's further deductions based upon that theory, T'Kir whistled; "Seems like the good Admiral has beaten you at your own game."

Macen shrugged, "Amanda Drake was something of a young turk in Starfleet Intelligence's Operations Division. I was the premier star of the Analysis Division before my transfer to Ops. It's no shame to be second guessed by her."

"It's just such a rare thing." T'Kir said with a victorious smile, "You never admit you're wrong and it's something of a thrill to see it happen."

"I admit when I'm wrong." Macen said defensively.

"Like, once a year." T'Kir retorted.

"So?" Macen insisted, "It just means I'm only wrong once a year."

"Oh, the sound of expanding egos rapidly filling this room." T'Kir accused.

"All right. I may have a slight problem with admitting I'm wrong." Macen conceded, "But you have to admit, I'm proven right rather than wrong more often than not."

"You get lucky." T'Kir countered.

Macen rolled his eyes and T'Kir laughed, "Okay, maybe you are almost as good as you think you are."

T'Kir knew that Macen was actually more humble then he was letting on. As the Mission Commander of the SID team and Commanding Officer of the _Obsidian_, Macen had to project an aura of invincibility in order to inspire the troops and inspire them to outperform themselves. It was a technique taught to every cadet at Starfleet Academy but it still worked.

Besides, Macen actually did proceed with a certain sense of destiny and invincibility. He was so certain of the course he'd plotted that he would proceed headlong into the very fires of Hell because he _knew _he'd survive to tell the tale. A great deal of this stemmed from Macen's ability to read time-space probabilities, or the Currents as the El-Aurians called them. Macen was in a very real sense guided by his intuitive grasp on what may happen over the next few hours.

T'Kir had never before encountered such a sensation until Macen had finally allowed her into his mind. What had once seemed to be a masterful analytic ability proved to instead be a knack for feeling his way through a situation. Combined with his low level empathic talents, Macen's gifts attested to an arcane knowledge of a hidden world. It was an ability that had been honed by the Seekers of Truth and amplified by the Nexus.

But all of this was predicated on Macen's accurate interpretation of the salient facts and his own instincts. This was an example of how Macen had superimposed what he wanted to be over what probably was. T'Kir shuddered to think of what may have happened if the _Obsidian _had blindly flown into the Iotians' arms. She doubted if even Daggit and Grace's enhanced reflexes could have ensured enough survival time to allow the outgunned surveyor to flee.

Thinking of Grace made T'Kir reflect upon her fair skinned friend. Grace typically wore her shoulder length blonde tresses pulled back. Her large brown doe eyes could flash with wrath or melt your heart with heartbreaking vulnerability. Grace's figure nearly mirrored T'Kir's own voluptuous form.

Grace owed her Germanic goddess looks and figure to the perfect genome inherent to the Kelvans' adopted human forms. Grace was stronger, faster, and smarter than the average Terran. Grace had opted to live as a human amongst her teammates rather than to return to New Kelva. She was rapidly learning what it meant to be fully human.

Rab Daggit, on the other hand, was a study of granite features and a body hewn out of solid rock and sculpted into a model of physical fitness. His close-cropped, greying brown hair was in constant danger of being shaven off altogether. The purple and grey mark on his right temple denoted where the Angosian military scientists had implanted the control to the psychological conditioning that enabled him to become the perfect soldier. Various other implants throughout his nervous and endocrine systems and his musculature enhanced his physical capabilities by a hundred fold.

Daggit's relationship with Parva was grounding the former commando and reintroducing him to his emotional side. Their flowering love affair was a sight to behold. She was all passion and fierceness and he was all controlled power and lethality. It made for some rousing trysts and even more spectacular fights.

The thought of Parva amused T'Kir. The Orion engineer was uncomfortable around the Vulcan. Parva feared a telepathic probe from T'Kir. The truth was that in her previous, less medicated state T'Kir had scanned Parva's mind in an unguarded moment. The former sex slave's past elicited a protective sympathy from T'Kir and she had shared Parva's secrets with no one outside of Macen, who would likely pick up on T'Kir's thoughts when she was ruminating on the matter.

Parva's raven hair was banded by two platinum streaks that framed her face. She'd recently trimmed her previously wild mane of hair back into a jaw length bob. Her eyes were nearly black, a rarity amongst Orions that had made her extremely desired and valuable amongst the slave traders. She'd had her revenge though, first by escaping and fleeing to the Federation where she had learned a trade and specialised in starship engineering and maintenance. After she'd spent time as an engineer for a major shipping firm she'd subsequently been posted as a project manager at Utopia Planetia.

It was there that Hal Dracas had met her and later recommended her to be his replacement while he left on a sabbatical with the Baku. She introduced a new element into the team: unbridled restlessness. She was constantly tinkering with the ship's systems and the weapons in the armoury to improve their capabilities and performance. Daggit took the edge off and grounded her.

Macen interrupted her reverie, "You're lost in thought."

She smiled, "Just reflecting on the mission and members of the team."

"Anything I should know?" Macen's right eyebrow rose.

T'Kir shook her head, "Nothing important. It can wait for a private moment."

"This _is _a private moment." Macen remarked.

"I mean it's nothing that can't wait until we're off duty." T'Kir laughed.

"Well," Macen propped his cheek up with his fist, "That leaves calling Tom and Lees and calling another briefing session."

"You think they'll want to attend?" T'Kir was surprised.

"I think they'll sign back on with our new mission parameters." Macen replied, "If not, we can still proceed without them."

I have to admit I never thought I'd see the day that there'd be dissension in the ranks." T'Kir admitted, "Up till now you've had quite a cult of personality going."

"Nothing lasts forever." Macen said sagely, "Lees has her own reasons for being reserved about any call I make and Tom should be in command of his own ship rather than being XO for this one."

"No arguments here." T'Kir said and uncurled from the couch, "Want me to summon everyone to the briefing room and get the reliefs back here."

"If you would." Macen bestowed her with a grateful smile, "I'll handle the calls to Tom and Lees personally."

"Natch." T'Kir said and rose. She'd tapped her comm badge and was conversing with one of the relief officers as she exited.

Macen took a deep breath and tapped his own comm badge, "Riker."

The computer cycled the call to the appropriate comm badge and Riker groggily responded, "Riker here."

"Tom, it's Brin. I need you to attend a briefing in fifteen minutes. There's been some new information come to light and we're changing our operations plan."

"What kind of 'change'?" Riker asked with suspicion.

"We're investigating the Iotians rather than recruiting them." Macen informed him, "My approach was wrong because, as you said, I let my emotions cloud the issue. Admiral Drake and I had a nice long talk and she presented me with an alternative theory I think bears investigating."

"Well, good. I'll be there in a few." Riker replied.

"Now I'll call Lees and hopefully she'll come as well." Macen said.

"Don't…bother calling her." Riker sounded hesitant, "She's heard every word you've said and she's coming as well."

"What? Oh…I see. Are congratulations in order?" Macen asked.

"I'd like to think so. Everything has been rather impromptu." Riker confessed, "We're still sorting through it all."

Macen chuckled, "Well, keep me informed. I'm glad you'll be at the briefing. It didn't feel right going into action without you, either of you."

"It's good to be back." Riker replied, "I hope."

"Trust me." Macen said, "You'll be pleased with the new mission parameters."

"Hope to find that out." Riker said, "But we'll be seriously late if you don't cut the line and let us shower."

"Right." Macen said and terminated the connection.

_Tom and Lees. _he thought, _Can't say T'Kir and I didn't see that one coming. I wonder how Hannah is going to react?_


	7. Chapter 7

101

Macen exited his Ready Room and saw the gleeful expression on T'Kir's face, "I was thinking a little too loud, eh?"

"You were broadcasting like an emergency beacon." she gushed, "Elements, Lisea moves fast. I didn't think Tom was over Jamie's death yet."

"He isn't." Macen replied, "Not entirely anyway. He still mourns her but he isn't consumed by grief any more. Lees has become a source of ready comfort. Apparently Tom needed a little extra comfort last night."

T'Kir made to reply but Grace interrupted, "Hey, what're you talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Macen replied, "I don't want to ruin the surprise."

"Fine." Grace sulked.

"Is it my imagination or is she acting more like you every day?" Macen asked T'Kir.

T'Kir beamed, "She has excellent taste in role models."

"We'll see." Macen retorted.

"Where's the faith?" T'Kir demanded, "Skip that, where's the love?"

"Right where it's always been." Macen took her hand, kissed it and then touched his forehead and then his breastbone, "Here and here at the very centre of my being."

T'Kir canted her head to one side, "Is it any wonder why I love you?"

Macen grinned, "Not to me. Anyway, you'll be in command while I brief the others."

"Command?" T'Kir's eyes brightened and she rubbed her hands together, "Clear off the bridge of my ship mister or I'll have you in irons."

"Another briefing? Really? I thought she was joking." Grace lamented, "We just had one."

"Damn." Macen murmured, "Her ears are almost as good as yours."

T'Kir nodded, "It's that genetically perfect thing. She really is the ultimate expression of human capability, at least at this stage of their development."

"She and Rab should form a club." Macen muttered.

"She wanted to and more, remember?" T'Kir adopted a mischievous grin.

"Sore subject." Grace hollered back, "Just drop it. Thank you."

The turbolift doors opened and the relief officers arrived.

"All right, I have to do this again and correct my previous screw up." Macen said.

"This should be good." Grace remarked as she proceeded to the lift.

* * *

Macen briefed the team. Riker and Danan conceded that the new ops plan was far more in keeping with their ideals than the previous plan. Macen apologised for the second time over his previous error.

"It's understandable." Daggit assured him, "We were all mad about Hal's death ands the attacks on the other Outbound Ventures ships and the losses there. Any one of us would have drawn the same conclusion."

Macen ignored Riker's shake of the head, "Thanks. We have a more realistic plan now and an official sanction from the SID Director herself."

"What about the Iotians' superior numbers and firepower?" Riker asked.

"I have a thought about that but it will require a detour." Macen answered.

"What kind of detour?" Grace asked.

"When we return to the bridge, I want you to plot us a course to 492 IV." Macen revealed.

"Magna Roma?" Grace asked, "We haven't been there since we told Alaric about Livia's death."

"The Romans have a debt to settle with Iotia." Macen said, "I'm willing to bet Alaric will offer us aid if we ask for it."

"How will flying into Iotian space with a Roman legion assist us in solving the mystery of whether or not the Iotians attacked us?" Riker demanded.

"I wasn't planning on flying into the dragon's mouth with an obvious escort." Macen explained, "The Star Legions will be held in ready reserve to come to our rescue if things go badly for us."

Riker settled down, "All right, that sounds better."

"This isn't a democracy Tom." Macen warned, "Don't start questioning every order I give."

"I'll remember that." Riker replied without any real commitment.

Macen could sense Riker's ambivalence and knew there was trouble for the days ahead. He could also sense everyone's deeper commitment to this objective than the last. He knew this was an appropriate time to adjourn the meeting.

As everyone began to file out of the briefing room, Macen called Riker's name and his XO stopped and turned, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course. My shift doesn't start for another two hours." Riker replied.

"Good." Macen replied in kind, "If you ever go over my head again, I'll crucify you. You'll be finished within the SID and Outbound Ventures will fire you."

Riker's eyes narrowed, "Understood. Is there anything else?"

"Are you happy?" Macen asked.

"What?" Riker blurted, "What kind of question is that? I question your orders and suddenly you're asking if I'm happy?"

"You are ready for a command of your own." Macen asserted, "I'm just wondering if you're chafing at the bit."

"I'm happy in my role here, Brin." Riker assured him and Macen could detect the truth behind the words, "I wasn't thrilled with your previous game plan but that doesn't mean that I'm not content. I said I'd let you know when I felt ready for my own command and I meant it. My prior reservations still persuade me that I'm not ready for the command chair so I'll be happy to occupy the XO's seat for awhile yet."

"All right." Macen replied, "That's what I needed to know."

"You're not going to grill me for another twenty minutes on whether or not I mean it?" Riker wondered.

"The trick with being an empath is quitting when you've felt the truth behind the words." Macen said.

"It wasn't this simple trying to convince you that I wanted to rejoin the crew." Riker reminded him.

"You were conflicted then." Macen explained, "When you said you were ready to forgo a command of your own and resume your role as XO, I accepted it with little questioning."

"I thought I'd just worn you down by then." Riker admitted.

"If this episode has taught you nothing else, it should have pointed out that I'm stubborn and hard to persuade." Macen asserted.

"Admiral Drake got through to you." Riker pointed out.

"I've known Amanda for a lot longer than I've known you." Macen confessed, "To be blunt, I trust her word more than I do yours. Even she has a hard time convincing me and I've known her for twenty years. It's one of the reasons why I still see her as a snot nosed junior officer and not as the Director of the SID."

"Yet she got through to you." Riker repeated.

"Even without empathy, I detected the truth behind her words." Macen revealed, "Your statements caused me to pause. Amanda's words, with two decades worth of weight behind them, caused me to reconsider. It's nothing personal. I've just staked my life on her judgement more times than I have yours."

"Lisea's right." Riker opined, "You really are more insular then you let on."

"I'm afraid my secret is out." Macen admitted, "I like you Tom and I even trust you to a point but not to the same degree that I trust Alynna Nechayev or T'Kir. They both know me to a degree that you don't. I in turn know them to an extreme that I don't know you. It's all relative."

"If T'Kir had disagreed with you from the first then you would have…?" Riker enquired.

"Probably dropped my original assessment at the beginning." Macen divulged, "Unfortunately, she proceeded with the same bias that I started with."

"It's a terrible thing to discover that the craziest person aboard holds more weight with you than your second in command." Riker opined.

"T'Kir and I know each other to a degree that you will never achieve or understand." Macen expressed, "Her opinion carries more resolutely with me than any other living soul."

"I see." Riker said, "I'm not certain that I completely understand but I see things more clearly than I ever have before."

"And that insight should steer you more straightly than before." Macen commented.

"If we're done here, I'd like to go settle a few things with Lisea." Riker revealed.

"Of course." Macen allowed.

Riker left and Macen paused before returning to the bridge. He and Riker had never seen eye to eye, but it had never posed an insurmountable odd before. That may be ending, Macen realised. The day was approaching when he and Riker would just not be able to come to terms.

Riker had grown over the trials and turmoil of the last few years. With growth had come the same sense of certainty that had proven to be Macen's downfall. Macen recognised it as the mark of a commander. He also knew it to be a potential hazard.

The day was swiftly approaching when Tom Riker had to leave his post. Macen had to prepare for replacing Riker. If things progressed the way they'd started, then Danan would be going with him as well. Shannon Forger was both unwilling and unready to assume the XO's slot. That left recruiting from the outside.

Not knowing where to start, Macen supposed he'd have to defer to Amanda Drake's good judgement on selecting candidates. He hated thinking about such things at this stage of the team's development. As T'Kir had stated once, the SID Investigative Team had melded into a family of sorts. A dysfunctional one to be sure but a family nonetheless.

The team had been fractured and split apart on more than one occasion but had always reunited. Macen feared that this time the fracture would be permanent. What would happen to the team in that event remained to be seen. He was certain they could survive if he found a worthy replacement up to the task of assuming Riker's duties, official and unofficial.

Danan would be just as hard to replace. The combination of covert operative and scientist was rare even amongst Starfleet personnel. Danan was a rare gem in many ways, Macen admitted to himself. Many people would call him a fool for allowing her to end their previous relationship. Macen would call any man or woman that would try to force her to maintain a half-hearted romance a fool.

Having clarified his concerns, Macen rounded the conference table and headed for the door. It was a short walk down the corridor to the lift. Once again, he proceeded to the bridge. And once again, T'Kir sat in the command chair.

He stepped to her side and waited for her to acknowledge him. She defiantly stared straight ahead.

"I'm not leaving." T'Kir declared, "Get your own starship."

"I did already." Macen countered, "You're sitting in right now like a queen upon the throne."

"You must be mistaken," T'Kir replied imperiously, "This ship was given to me by my husband, a dear, sweet man that would never rescind a gift."

"Yes, he would." Macen said and pulled her out of the chair, "Get to your own station."

"Ruffian." T'Kir accused, "I say you're a bounder, cad, lout and villain."

"Yeah, yeah." Macen scooted her on her way with a pinch on the butt. T'Kir's eyes sparkled as she retook her station at OPS. Daggit and Grace each seemed perfectly delighted with the exchange.

_We live to amuse_, Macen thought wryly, _what an ignoble fate._

_Oh, quit complaining. _T'Kir's mental voice called out to him, _It does the crew some good to see us relax and take a quiet moment to have some fun. Besides, can you see me as stuffy?_

_ No_, Macen thoughtcast back, _I can't see conforming to anyone's standards of 'proper' much less anything else._

_ Good. _T'Kir mentally asserted, _I'd hate to have to kill you._

_ "You already tried that, remember? _Macen replied, _Didn't work out so well for you the last time. This time I won't break you out of the sanatorium._

_ Will you let that drop? _T'Kir pleaded, _I was sick. I'm better now. Promise._

_ If I didn't already know that, I wouldn't have married you. _Macen reassured her, _It's just nice to have something to remind you that you're not perfect._

_ It would take something drastic like that to prove it, wouldn't it?_ T'Kir thought back. Macen could sense her amusement. Despite T'Kir's protestations over Macen's supposed aura of invincibility, she projected a pretty convincing air of infallibility herself.

_Back to work, m'dear. _Macen ordered, _We have a ship to run._

_ Yes, darling._ the sarcasm lacing T'Kir's thoughts projected across the rapport as well as her emotions.

"Hannah, what's our course?" Macen enquired.

"We're en route to Magna Roma, in the solar system catalogued as 492. Sector quarantine imposed by the Council of Five in 2269." Grace recited the facts, "Originally visited by SID Team One in 2376, six years ago I might add, and revisited in 2377 in order to inform the Emperor of the death of his sister as a member of the crew of the _Eclipse_."

"Okay," Macen held up his hands in surrender, "I bow before your encyclopaedic knowledge."

"As well you should." Grace's head bobbed authoritatively.

"Is everyone on this boat going to give me attitude from now on?" Macen lamented.

"Comes from having an informal chain of command." Daggit theorised.

"Thank you Rab." Macen retorted, "Would you prefer a dictatorship so you'd all have an excuse to mutiny?"

"Seems to me that can happen anyway." Daggit returned.

That brought Macen up short. It seemed his difficulties with Riker were becoming too transparent for comfort's sake. Steps had to be taken and soon. Receiving a mental nudge from T'Kir, Macen forced himself to think of other things.

"What's our ETA for the 492 sector border?" Macen asked.

"Nine hours, eleven minutes present speed." Grace answered.

"All right." Macen said, his mind made up, "T'Kir, summon the relief officers. Alert Radil and have her go off duty for nine hours, same with Kort. The EMH can pick up the slack. The rest of you will take time off and report back here in nine hours. I want my varsity team players at their posts when we cross the border."

"The gamma shift could handle that." Grace rejoined.

"The gammas are good but you all are better." Macen returned.

"Can't argue with that." Grace grinned.

After the relief officers came, T'Kir plopped down into the XO's seat beside Macen's command chair, "Staying here?"

Macen nodded, "For another two hours until Tom starts his shift."

"You two are sure butting heads." T'Kir observed, "Planning on getting rid of him?"

"Promoting him to his own command isn't 'getting rid of him'." Macen clarified.

"What if he refuses to assume command of another ship?" T'Kir wondered.

"_Then _I get rid of him." Macen stated unequivocally.

"It's gonna get ugly either way." T'Kir warned.

Macen rolled his eyes, "Thank you, I already knew that."

"Don't get smart with me buster." T'Kir warned, "I know where you sleep."

"I would hope so." Macen remarked, "I'd hate to think that you couldn't find your way back."

"Another remark like that and I might develop amnesia." T'Kir decided.

"Heavens forefend." Macen said with mock gravity.

"Laugh if you must." T'Kir raised a warding hand and closed her eyes while wearing an expression of forbearance, "There's many a soul that would welcome me into their quarters."

"Besides Hannah?" Macen couldn't help but ask.

That earned him an irritated flash of the eyes, "Many a noble champion has sought me out. It's only my longsuffering nature that's allowed me to endure your bed."

"You want to leave? Leave and be done with it." Macen shrugged.

T'Kir stuck out her tongue, "You never want to play."

"Not like this, at least not when I'm on duty." Macen replied.

"All right." T'Kir heaved a submissive sigh, "So what d'we do until Tom gets here?"

Macen quirked an eyebrow, "Speculate on what he and Lees are talking about right now?"

T'Kir clapped her hands together, "Oh goodie! I like this game."

* * *

Riker had wandered down to the science labs nestled within the _Obsidian's _saucer section. Danan only had three techs to work with but they were highly competent. Any one of them could easily handle the science station on the bridge. Each of them came with their own areas of specialisation and the overlapping expertise granted the crew a fully developed scientific team.

That cohesion allowed the team to investigate such diverse and mystifying phenomena as "ultramatter", a fragment of primordial matter that predated the universe. Danan was still upset with Macen for surrendering their two ultramatter samples to the Kelvans. She couldn't try and persuade the Kelvans to grant her access to the material since the extragalactic refugees had dispatched the fragments to the void between galaxies. The data she had collected in her all too brief encounter with ultramatter was already being dissected by scientists across the Federation and was rapidly altering cosmological theories across the spectrum.

It was the closest that Danan had come to scientific immortality. Most of her more mundane researches generally revealed a new and creative means for murdering some poor unsuspecting sentient. She knew her discoveries had saved lives, would save future lives, and that the guilty were prosecuted but it wasn't the same as a major contribution. She'd made an impact on the scientific community as a whole and she wanted that to continue.

Danan's temperament had gelled during her time undercover in the Maquis with Macen. She no longer had the patience for strict lab work. She also craved action. Seeking to find a balance between her two pursuits had drawn her back into Macen's SID team.

Her personal life had been in upheaval since she'd left Macen. A series of torrid affairs had left her temporarily satisfied and then left wanting something more. This morning's encounter had been refreshing, hopefully for both of them. Danan wouldn't mind if the trend continued but she'd survive unscathed if it were a one time dalliance.

Riker's appearance, and serious mien, bespoke of potential trouble on the horizon.

"Tori, could you excuse us?" Danan asked her Benzite physical sciences tech.

"Of course." he replied and left the lab.

"How can I help you, Commander?" Danan lightly enquired.

"Lees, we need to talk." Riker intoned.

"Please," Danan sighed, "spare me a DTR."

"A what?" a confused Riker asked.

"A Determine The Relationship talk." Danan explained, "As far as I'm concerned, we don't need to approach our situation with that clinical of an eye yet."

"But this morning…"

"Was a wonderful thing." Danan expressed, "It was enjoyable and educational all at the same time. It's something I wouldn't mind repeating for as long as you're willing to. That doesn't mean I'm committing myself to a monogamous relationship with you. I like you Tom and I enjoy our time together. I really enjoyed this morning. It was the first time in a long time when I could fully relax and just embrace the moment."

"I want to keep seeing you and exploring the possibilities of a relationship but there isn't one, at least not yet." she continued, "You're in a hurry to cement things because of how Jamie was taken from you. You see yourself as having waited too long before committing to something permanent. Don't make the opposite mistake now. Overcommitting to a fledgling romance is just as potentially harmful as ignoring the real possibility of a lasting happiness."

"Let's just take things as they come." Danan advised, "The future is an unknown. Enjoy the journey of reaching tomorrow. We can have a lot of fun in the interim."

Riker whistled, "You should've been a man."

"I've been a man." Danan reminded him, "Twice. It was informative. I know how the other half thinks so I know the pitfalls and the warning signs. Take it from me, you're trying to move way too fast."

"Oookay." Riker expression was on of wry amusement, "_That _didn't go as planned but it was far better than what I intended. You were right. I was going to coerce you into establishing an informal union. Your way is far more healthy and satisfying in the long term."

"I'm glad you can admit it." Danan confessed, "I remember the pride that my male hosts had. It got in the way of a lot."

"I'm sure that some of your female hosts did too." Riker insisted.

Danan nodded, "Not that I'm all that humble myself."

"Your ego is well hidden by your common sense and humility." Riker observed.

Danan smiled brightly, "I knew there was a reason why I liked you. Keep talking."

"Well, uhhh…" Riker nervously rubbed the back of his head.

"I was only kidding." Danan squeezed his hand, "The nervous little boy act was cute though."

Riker grinned, "I can settle for cute."

"Actually I think you're quite sexy but don't quote me. I'll deny everything."

"I see." Riker stroked his beard, "I guess I'll get out of your way and let you get back to…"

"Prepping the labs in case of impending work." Danan supplied, "We never know when our department will get called upon."

"Same with Radil's forensics team." Riker compared.

Danan nodded, "Something like that except they usually get more warning then we do. We generally get prior notification if we're going to be solving a murder case. Scientific inquiry just crops up. And we have to be prepared to answer any question or mystery that crops up regardless of the particular science that is used to solve it."

Riker ran a hand through his hair, "And here I'd thought the science team had it easy."

"I could double my staff and still be overwhelmed." Danan admitted, "If my team didn't love mysteries and challenges, Brin would be up a proverbial creek."

"Speaking of Brin, he won't be a problem will he?"

"No." Danan smiled wistfully, "He and I parted ways quite amicably. From what I could tell at the last briefing, he's generally happy over our liaison. He and T'Kir have probably been speculating over it for quite some time."

"You think?" Riker was less certain.

"By the Pools, Tom, T'Kir's a _frinxing _telepath. She's probably 'overheard' enough stray thought to make her suspicious. Brin's an empath. I don't know about you but I've been slowly building up to this morning's release for some time now. Those types of emotions are hard to hide."

Danan shrugged, "Besides which, Brin's entire race are considered to be 'Listeners'. He studiers every little physical and verbal clue he sees."

"In other words, they knew before we did." Riker wore a rueful smile.

"`Fraid so." Danan laughed.

"I'm glad this amuses you." Riker retorted, "I feel a little put upon myself."

"They can't help being what they are Tom." Danan replied, "Part of being around them is accepting them for who and what they are."

"You didn't think so this morning." Riker pointed out.

"I know." Danan admitted, "That was a matter of conscience not of acceptance. I was allowing Brin to make his own mistakes without compounding them with my own participation."

"I went over his head." Riker confessed, "I commed Admiral Drake and told her what was going on. Brin's mad but it made him see reason."

"I'm amazed." Danan commented, "I'm amazed that he saw reason and I'm amazed he didn't throw you out an airlock."

"We had words." Riker sniffed, "He's warned me of future reprisals if I call Drake again."

"You're lucky that's all that occurred." Danan advised, "The same trauma history that caused Brin to make the leap of illogic that he did this morning is the same psychological scar that would cause him to treat you as a threat. As we all know, Brin reacts quite…_strongly_ to threats."

"T'Kir is no help since she is similarly traumatised." Danan added, "They need a check and balance system when it comes to reacting to threatening situations and people. They both have a knee jerk 'crush the threat' reaction that catapults them, and subsequently us, into action."

"Brin's as much as told me that T'Kir is the only person aboard that he'll listen to." Riker revealed.

"Then, in those circumstances, we have a problem that will rear its ugly head again." Danan grimly assessed the situation.

"That's what I was afraid you were going to say." Riker pursed his lips, "What can we do?"

"If you believe in a supreme being, I suggest you pray." Danan offered, "Other than that, all we can do is find someone that he will listen to and bring them aboard."

"Great." Riker grumped, "We could get killed before that happens."

"Unfortunately, you're right." Danan agreed.


	8. Chapter 8

130

The Investigative Team returned to their posts at twenty hundred hours and relieved their gamma shift opposite numbers. The boundary crossing into the quarantined sector surrounding the 492 system went without incident. It took another hour of travelling at warp 6 to be intercepted by Roman vessels. Two of the three ships were a familiar Roman design.

The raptor looking _Eagle_-class ships remained unaltered. They were half the size of the _Obsidian _and only capable of warp 6. The other ship was new to the SID team's experience. It superficially resembled a _Defiant_-class. It possessed the jutting navigational deflector that typified the Federation warship.

The saucer-like ship had two struts that aligned to either side of the deflector array. These housed the forward torpedo launchers. The sides of the ship encased the warp nacelles. A phaser emitter was mounted beside the Busard collector. Atop the central hull was a torpedo turret. It could fire in every direction except down.

The eagle emblem of the Roman Empire was painted atop the nose of the deflector emitter. The ship was obviously built for combat and was nearly the size of the Federation surveyor. The _Obsidian _dropped to impulse and the Roman ships did likewise. They manoeuvred themselves into a pyramid surrounding the science vessel.

"We're being hailed." T'Kir announced.

"Put it on screen." Macen ordered.

The screen shifted from a picture of the Roman warship and an _Eagle_-class scoutship to that of a stone faced Roman commander, "State your business in the stellar reaches of the Greater Roman Empire."

"My name is Brin Macen." Macen replied, "I am captain of the Federation surveyor, _Obsidian_. I request an audience with your emperor."

The Commander placed a fist upon his chest, "Forgive us, Commander. You are known as a friend of the Empire. There are standing instructions to bring you to Magna Roma post haste and deliver you to the Emperor's court."

"No apologies are necessary, Commander." Macen assured him, "You are simply performing your assigned duties."

"Thank you, Commander Macen." the Roman replied with a bow of his head, "If you will follow us."

"Of course." Macen returned the Roman salute, which made the Legionnaire smile.

"We shall proceed at warp factor 5." the Roman commander announced.

"Signal us when you're ready to proceed." Macen said and cut the transmission.

"What's with the 'Commander' stuff?" Riker wondered, "Do they know your Starfleet rank?"

Macen shook his head and grinned, "They remember me as the Mission Commander from our previous visits. They also refer to their ship captains as 'commanders'. I qualify under both criteria so they refer to me as 'Commander'. It's simply a generic honorific."

"Sounds Romulan to me." Riker observed.

"The Romulans share several cultural and linguistic characteristics with the Romans of Earth and Magna Roma." Macen explained, "The militarism that permeates both societies is the simplest, most basic similarity."

"Even the forms of government are similar." Macen remarked, "A comparative study of the two cultures would be fascinating."

"So you'll be resigning from the SID to undertake this study when? Riker joked.

"Don't laugh." Macen advised, "It's tempting."

Riker shook his head, "You wouldn't last. You'd miss the action and intrigue."

"Probably." Macen sighed.

"Definitely." Riker asserted, "So what comes next?"

"We meet with Alaric and outline our suspicions." Macen answered.

"And he volunteers to send forces to watch our back?" Riker was dubious.

"Something like that." Macen said with an enigmatic smile.

* * *

Only the Roman warship escorted the _Obsidian _to Magna Roma. The two scouts resumed their patrol. En route, T'Kir obtained some detailed scans of the Roman ship.

"That thing is nearly on par with a _Defiant_-class ship. The similarities aren't merely superficial." she reported to Macen.

Macen stood up from his crouch to view T'Kir's displays, "How'd they technologically jump two centuries?"

"You're the one that always lectures everyone on the fact that different societies develop at different rates." T'Kir retorted.

"It's a human society." Macen replied, "They should follow the same general pattern as Earth. They were three hundred years behind the times when the original _Enterprise_ visited. We can attribute this attrition to the rebuilding of the various civilisations across Magna Roma after the Preservers moved the various representatives of the affected nationalities."

"But they went from a 20th century tech base to one rivalling 22nd century Earth in a century." T'Kir argued.

"They had the wreckage of the _Beagle _to reverse engineer from. They duplicated the warp engines but they rely on fusion reactors to power them. Fusion was harnessed on Earth in the 21st century. That coincides with the Roman development of the technology."

"Yah, yah." T'Kir remarked, "They got the tech from a wreck and their own scientists. But how does that explain a 24th century type warship?"

"The only thing I can come up with is technology transfers from the Omicron. They were on the planet for two years before we arrived." Macen answered.

"That's what I was afraid you were going to say." T'Kir groused, "Any idea what other surprises are in store."

"I don't have a clue." Macen admitted, "Section 31 probably keeps an eye on Magna Roma but Starfleet Intelligence adheres to the quarantine. Our visit was the first official Federation venture in over a century."

"They're warp capable." T'Kir argued, "Why does Starfleet maintain the quarantine?"

"The quarantine is in place at the behest of the Federation Committee." Macen explained, "Until a majority of the nine members of the Committee agree to drop the quarantine it'll stay in effect."

"How much do you want to bet that the Committee members have never heard of 492 IV?" T'Kir asked acerbically.

"Wouldn't surprise me at all." Macen agreed, "The nine members of the Committee are charged with the smooth running of the Federation's legislative body. They probably don't pay much attention to old business."

"What a _frinxing _mess." T'Kir commented dismally, "Promise me you'll pressure Amanda Drake to help change that."

Macen kissed her forehead, "I'll do what I can."

* * *

The _Obsidian _entered Magna Roman orbit 2 hours 12 minutes after her intercept by the Roman Star Legions. The crew swiftly received a hail originating from the Emperor's major domo. They were provided with coordinates for transporting to the surface and were invited for an immediate audience with Alaric.

Macen summoned the entire Investigative Team to the transporter room, leaving the ship to a wide-eyed Shannon Forger, "Remember, this all deeply classified. You never saw this world and you don't know where it is."

"Of course." Forger swallowed hard and nodded.

"Spread the word to the crew." Macen ordered, "Inquiries of _any_ kind, discreet or otherwise, will not be tolerated and will result in a termination of their services. Starfleet regulations will demand that they be taken into custody and detained."

"I'll definitely pass that last part along." Forger offered a wan smile.

"We know these people and they consider us friends." Macen advised, "If you and the rest of the crew just quietly sit back and bide your time, we'll all go home unscathed."

Forger had a hunted look to her eyes but she nodded again and squared her shoulders, "Yes sir!"

"Beep my communicator if any problems arise." Macen instructed.

"I will." Forger replied, "Take care."

Macen grinned, "_We_ will."

In the transporter room, Riker began to protest, "We shouldn't go down armed to the teeth."

"Sidearms won't offend them." Macen responded, "This is a militant culture. Personal weaponry is allowed and even encouraged."

"You'd better be right about this." Riker growled as he stepped up to the transporter pad.

"Try trusting me for once." Macen advised.

"I'll trust you the day you return the favour." Riker informed him.

The rest of the crew remained silent throughout this exchange. Macen could feel T'Kir's anger but she was still in check. Daggit was also simmering under the surface. The others were uneasy and trying to decide who had a greater case for their position. So far, at least, he still held the advantage.

Looking to Telrik he ordered, "Beam us down."

"Yessir." the Tellarite replied and the room shimmered out of existence.

* * *

The team rematerialised in an open courtyard outside of the Imperial Palace. Praetorian guardsmen in black armour wielding phaser rifles, pistols and long swords emerged from the shadows of the surrounding arboretum. They levelled their rifles and the Captain of the Guard approached with his hand on his sword.

"Lay down your arms or be cut down." he barked.

The team tightened into a circle, hands on their weapons. A booming voice cutting through the night ended the standoff.

"At ease, Captain." Alaric Germanicus commanded from the portico leading into the Palace. Alaric wore a simple tunic and pants. His clothes and bearing still reflected his lifetime of military service that culminated in his commanding the Star Legions. Now he governed the most powerful nation on this world.

The Praetorians shouldered their weapons and the Captain bowed, "I'm sorry, Caesar."

"No need to apologise, Captain." Alaric replied, "Just try not to be so hasty about killing unexpected guests until you've had a chance to confirm their identities."

"Yes, Caesar." the Captain came to attention and then turned on his heel and he and his troops disappeared into the night.

Alaric approached the SID team and appraised them, "I trust no one is the worse for wear?"

"It was an interesting greeting but we're unharmed." Macen informed him.

Alaric approached Macen and clasped his shoulders, "Excellent. I have a table prepared for us. Let us retire and discuss what has transpired since we last met."

Alaric led the group through the portico into the palace. They followed the Emperor down a corridor that led to a vast rotunda. It was made of marble and trimmed with darkly varnished hardwoods. Tapestries and imperial coloured cloths hung everywhere.

On a raised dais, a throne sat by itself. Chairs were aligned to either side of it at floor level. Before it stretched a sea of tables and stadium style bench seating lining the opposite walls. The symbol of the Roman eagle was the dominant theme. It was prominently displayed on a cloth draped across the throne.

"Forgive the pomp." Alaric begged, "But this is the very heart of the Imperial Residence."

"Is this room filled with courtiers or with citizens seeking the attention of the Emperor?" Macen asked.

Alaric chuckled, "Both actually. Now that the Empire has stretched across the globe, we also entertain ambassadors from our new protectorates here."

Seeing Macen's surprise Alaric paused to explain, "Since your last two visits we have reached out to the various foreign powers that my sister united in her insurrection. Upper Germania was the first to come into our fold. Having a German born Emperor was enough to convince them that their interests would be protected. The Northlands followed as well as Eire, thanks to the Crusaders of Brittania and Scotia."

"The kingdoms of the Next World next followed. Roman colonies have been established on the East Coast of the northern continent. The Far East and Southern Africa were the last to be persuaded. Now the Middle Kingdom is a staunch ally and the African nations have joined the Empire proper."

"What about the slaves?" Macen softly asked.

"I have pushed through new reforms granting the Empire's slaves greater rights but they remain slaves. Citizenship is a hard won privilege. There are millions of freemen that live within the Imperial borders but they have never earned citizenship."

"How does anyone earn citizenship?" T'Kir asked.

Alaric straightened to his full imposing height, "They serve the state. Whether it be on a local level or serving in the Senate, they toil for the prosperity of all. Military service is a guarantor of citizenship. It is one of the reasons military service is the preferred route to citizenship."

"I know this is all foreign to you." Alaric said, "Captain Merrick explained to us all about the Federation and your system of universal citizenship. It was quite surprising to us to learn that a galactic power could be so…weak."

Macen grinned, "You haven't said anything the Romulans or the Klingons haven't already said."

Alaric broke into a relieved smile, "I'm glad I haven't offended you. Now, if you'll follow me, we'll adjourn to the dining hall."

* * *

Dining "hall" was the appropriate description for the cavernous space Alaric led them to. Several of Alaric's ministers joined them for the evening meal. Also joining them were Alaric's wife and children. The meal was sumptuous. The conversation mostly consisted of stories describing life in the empire or the stars beyond. Kort and Parva fielded their fair shares of stares. The others gradually relaxed and were soon laughing with their hosts.

After the meal was done, Alaric led them to a parlour filled with couches and cushions. Alaric sat down on a wingback chair and his young daughter crawled into his lap. For the first time all evening the soldier turned ruler looked peaceful. Alaric's daughter fell asleep and his wife collected her.

"It has been a privilege meeting you." she offered and ushered her remaining children out of the parlour and headed for the residential wing.

"So…Miss Lisea, how does it feel to return to the very palace where you were once a slave?"

Danan's eyebrow's raised and she pensively mulled the question, "Aurelius treated me with respect so I have no bad memories of this place. Most of my unease occurred when the Star Legions attacked my ship or when I learned that Brin was in the gladiatorial pits."

"Speaking of the gladiatorial games," Alaric grinned, "We've made the matches non-lethal now. Would you consider a return the Coliseum? You are undefeated. It would be a grand spectacle."

Macen shook his head, "Sorry but no."

"Where is the third man that fought beside you?" Alaric wondered, "I see your colossus but the older fellow is missing."

Macen grimaced, "He was lost in the line of duty on our way here."

Sensing Macen's sorrow, Alaric apologised, "I'm sorry. I know how difficult it can be to lose a comrade in arms."

"It never gets easier." Macen admitted.

"Perhaps I have a way to relieve some of your anguish." Alaric brightened and rose to cross the room and activate an intercom.

"Giorgio, send in Joachim." the Emperor ordered.

He stood by the door until a soldier appeared wearing the livery of the Star Legions. Macen did a doubletake as T'Kir gasped. Daggit bolted out of his seat. Danan stared open mouthed at the man. Grace kept rubbing her eyes. Kort and Radil slowly rose to their feet and tensed, ready for anything. Parva sat hunched like a cat poised to strike. Only Riker seemed unaffected.

The person standing before them was Hal Dracas, exactly like they'd last seen him. Only now, Dracas wore Roman armaments and carried a legionnaire's helmet with inborn confidence. He looked at home in these clothes and he calmly studied the reactions of those watching him. Whereas Dracas would have quailed at such scrutiny, this…duplicate stood unwavering.

"Come Joachim, please join us." Alaric guided the younger man towards a chair. Alaric's Interior Minister vacated his seat to the Emperor's left and excused himself to another couch.

"How is this possible?" Macen managed to ask.

"The young man in question is a clone." Alaric smiled at "Joachim", "We harvested genetic material implanted into the comfort men we offered your friend. We would have done the same thing to you and your other friend but neither of you availed yourself to the services of the comfort men and women."

"And it's a shame that he didn't." T'Kir quipped.

"I did it because I realised that you were the only person I cared about being with." Macen replied, "So spare me the lecture."

T'Kir beamed, "That's my man, a one woman type a guy."

T'Kir blinked, saw everyone else's impatience, and bit her lip, "You were saying…"

"We'd developed cloning techniques prior to the visit by Captain Kirk." Alaric explained, "Roman scientists had even cloned a human being in the century that passed but it required the same amount of time to raise as a conventional person so that eliminated the benefits of cloning."

"You wanted a rapid replenishment method for your troops." Macen surmised.

"Exactly." Alaric nodded, "We thought our goal was dead until the Omicron came. Ezexial gave us cloning cylinders that could force grow a clone until they reached any age we desired. This should have eliminated our problems but in truth they'd only begun."

"You couldn't find any volunteers to undergo the cloning process." Macen theorised.

"Again, you are correct." Alaric confirmed, "My fellow Romans felt that it was a diminishment of their humanity to participate in the program. We tried to force a legionnaire to undergo the process but he committed suicide before we could extract any DNA."

"So you sought aliens to finish your experiments on." Macen concluded.

"Yes." Alaric looked embarrassed, "We would put the males in the gladiatorial arena and harvest their sperm through the comfort slaves we gave them and we would utilise the females as slaves in Imperial households."

"So what about…Joachim was it?" Macen enquired.

"Joachim Kohl here was cloned and emerged from the tanks three months after you left here." Alaric explained, "He was subliminally taught for his future roles and then extensively conditioned for proper court life. He was housed by a General of mine, Gerhard Kohl during this time."

"So what is his current role?" Macen asked.

"I understand his predecessor was an engineer?" Alaric wondered.

Macen nodded and Alaric smiled, "That explains his natural affinity for machinery. Joachim can take apart and rebuild any one of the Star Legions vessels."

"But that isn't his role." Macen surmised.

Alaric shook his head, "We needed to test the process to see if it could breed soldiers, not engineers."

"So he's a foot soldier?" T'Kir interjected.

"No, dear lady, he's a legionnaire amongst our space forces." Alaric bestowed Joachim with a paternal smile, "Young Joachim here is the finest centurion in the fleet."

Kohl blushed but the Emperor waxed on, "Joachim has exceeded every demanded put upon him. He's single handidly proven the validity of the cloning process. An extensive search is now underway across the empire to find the ideal candidates for cloning and to begin mass producing them."

"How do the candidates feel about that?" Macen wondered.

"Trepidatious but as they're about to become Heroes of the Empire and be elevated to the status of country nobles, they are acquiescing."

"I'm not sure whether or not I should be disturbed or intrigued." Macen admitted.

"You should be happy." Alaric insisted, "In a fashion, your friend lives on. He has all of the same talents and…preferences that we saw displayed. He probably resembles your comrade in ways we cannot fathom without having known him."

"Perhaps." Macen allowed, "But we can't know that without working beside him."

"That can be arranged." Alaric slapped his knee, "But you will not have a problem serving beside a clone?"

"Within the Federation there were entire worlds populated by clones." Macen looked towards Riker, "We also have experience with duplicates."

"Excellent." Alaric beamed, "I've been wanting to send an envoy out to learn about the stellar realms beyond our borders. Joachim can act as my agent."

"Travelling with us will only lead him to the problem spots of the galaxy." Macen warned.

"He will still learn from you and see how the Federation deals with its enemies and friends." Alaric assured him.

"We don't operate like Starfleet." Macen advised, "We're privateers. We're hired to deal with delicate situations that the regular fleet isn't equipped to handle."

"This is perfect." Alaric enthused, "He will learn crisis management from the best of the Federation's forces."

Seeing the Emperor wouldn't be dissuaded, Macen tried a different tack, "As long as we're discussing working together, let me tell about a problem we're having. It starts with Hal Dracas' death and ends up with the Iotians. They…"


	9. Chapter 9

143

Macen's story incensed Alaric. The Emperor rose from his chair and began pacing about the parlour.

"Again!" Alaric fumed, "Again it is the accursed Iotians. We bore the brunt of the heavy reparations. Romans, citizens, freemen, and slaves alike vigorously toiled to repay that thrice-damned debt in just under three years. It nearly crippled the Treasury but we achieved the impossible."

Alaric whirled and turned on Macen, "After the debt was paid, they demanded more! We unveiled the _Banner_-class starship and we proved to them we would not accede to their demands without a struggle. Seeing that our new ship type was more advanced than theirs, they retreated and have not been heard from again."

"Where did your new ship type originate from?" Macen asked, "It closely resembles a Federation design."

"The design and technology were transfers from the Omicron." Alaric grimaced, "It was one of the few decent things that they left."

Macen recalled how the Omicrons had overwhelmed Aurelius and virtually taken over the Roman government during their brief "alliance" with the Nova Romans. There was little love lost between the Romans and the Omicron. Alaric had declared war on the Omicrons. Any Omicron found within Imperial space was to be summarily executed.

"Can your people handle the technology?" Macen asked. It was a fair question and not intended as an insult.

Fortunately, Alaric understood that, "The Omicron left behind extensive training programs. My crews are well versed in how their vessels and their various subsystems operate."

Alaric turned to Kohl, "Isn't that right, Joachim?"

Kohl spoke for the first time, "That is correct, Caesar. I have paved the way for a future generation of clones."

"Are you always so robotic?" Macen asked. T'Kir elbowed him in the ribs, "What? He's coming aboard my ship. I want to know what he's like."

Alaric opened his mouth but Kohl spoke first, "It is a fair question, Caesar. I utilise the courtesy required by a person's rank and title. I tread lightly where my Emperor is concerned but I do not have to offer you the same degree of respect."

Macen grinned, "Nice. I like your fire Joachim. You'll fit right in with my crew."

Alaric looked relieved, "Now I will summon the Commander of the Space Legions and we will dispatch a fleet to assist you in your investigation of the Iotians."

"Much obliged." Macen offered.

"Wait here while I set the wheels in motion." Alaric commanded. He rose from his chair and strode over to the intercom. He activated and began dictating orders to the unknown voice on the other end. The conversation ended with the faceless voice snapping off a, "Yes, Caesar!"

"_That_ should mobilise the troops." Alaric said with a feral smile.

It took the Commander of the Space Legions an hour to arrive at the palace. He entered the rotunda and found Alaric seated upon the Imperial throne. The War Minister was present as well. Macen's team sat at the various tables laid out across the room. Joachim Kohl stood in an unoccupied curve of the room.

The Commander straightened himself up and then bowed from the waist, "You sent for me, Caesar?"

"Gerhard, I want you to deploy half of our space forces in order to escort the Federation ship currently in orbit around this sphere." Alaric ordered.

"Such a request will take time." Gerhard Kohl pointed out, "We need to revise patrols and scouting expeditions."

"You have twelve hours." Alaric determined.

"Yes, Caesar." Kohl bowed his head.

"One further thing, Gerhard." Alaric added, "Your adopted son will be departing with the Federation personnel. I suggest you say your farewells within the next twelve hours."

Kohl bobbed his head, "Understood." With that said, the general turned on his heel and strode out of the audience hall.

"Joachim, come here." Alaric motioned for the younger Kohl to approach, "Take a knee."

Kohl knelt before Alaric and raised his head so that he could look his Emperor in the face, "Yes, Caesar?"

"You will be my eyes and ears in the outer world." Joachim intoned, "I give you five years and then you must return and report."

"Yes, Caesar." Kohl's head bobbed.

"Go now." Alaric ordered, "Pack your belongings and prepare for the journey ahead."

Kohl nodded and then slowly rose and turned to exit the room. He hesitated at the door but shrugged, squared his shoulders, and left.

"There's a man with a lot on his mind." Macen observed.

Alaric stepped away from the throne and approached Macen, T'Kir and Grace's table, "You truly think so. I felt he would be better suited to serve beside you. You, at least, will treat him like a man."

"What do you mean?" Macen asked.

"The Senate has decreed that clones are fit to serve in the Legions but they are not to be awarded citizenship nor will they be freemen."

"They'll be slaves?" Macen's temper flared.

Alaric nodded sadly, "The first the Army has known. We'd kept slaves as workers and valets but they weren't soldiers. Slaves released by their masters to military service earned their freedom and citizenship."

"And the only difference is that they aren't going to be naturally born?" Macen asked.

"Yes." Alaric's sorrow deepened, "I've treated Joachim like a favoured nephew. I do not wish to see him enslaved. He must go with you. Return him here in five years so he can be debriefed and then spirit him away again."

"Well, I'll say this for Joachim, he shares his predecessor's lack of a homeworld." Macen revealed, "Dracas was condemned on his own world due to his homosexuality."

Alaric shook his head, "It is a readily accepted truth here. In fact there are schools of thought that say a man or a woman must marry in order to procreate but they must take a lover of the same sex in order to find true happiness."

"The Federation has proponents of the same theory." Macen admitted, "They are a small but very vocal minority."

"Here they are a majority." Alaric revealed, "Only the Crusaders believe in strict monogamous heterosexual coupling."

"You seem to as well." Macen commented.

Alaric laughed, "Tell that to my many mistresses."

Macen shrugged, "Each to their own."

"This does not shock or offend you?" Alaric was surprised, "You stated earlier that you reserved yourself for relations with your wife."

"That's my choice." Macen said, "My choices are not for everyone, merely for me. My people were rather urbane. They embraced many lifestyles and creeds. The Federation teaches non-interference and non-judgement in regards to other cultures."

"A lesson that Rome is now learning with the addition of all of our protectorates and new provinces." Alaric remarked, "If we continue down the path of forced assimilation, all will be lost."

"Cooperation always serves a cause better than force." Riker forcibly clarified upon hearing Macen's statement, "_Unless_, of course, when you're dealing with a military or paramilitary operation."

Alaric nodded, "I'm beginning to see your point as the day's march on." Alaric suddenly smiled, "You and your crew must be tired, let me show you to your rooms."

"That's unnecessary." Macen replied, "We can beam back up to our ship."

Alaric insisted, "I would be remiss in my duties as a host if you were to leave now. My honour demands that I shelter you."

Macen shrugged, "Okay."

"Everyone, follow me to the guest mansion." Alaric called out like a tour guide. He gave a blow-by-blow explanation and description of every wing as they passed it. He showed them the vast kitchen complex and introduced them to the four overnight cooks and servers.

"Ask them for anything and they will bring it to you throughout the night." Alaric boasted, "It is an innovation that improves the lives of the Praetorian night watch as well as midnight cravings that cannot be quelled."

Alaric chuckled conspiratorially, "I've gained twenty pounds since I became emperor."

"Fortunately, it doesn't show." Macen consoled him.

"I spend an extra hour a day in the gymnasium." Alaric divulged, "I've turned my excess food into muscle."

"Congratulations." Macen said.

"Your physique is much improved over the last time you were on Magna Roma." Alaric observed.

"The benefits of clean living." Macen quipped. T'Kir chortled and broke into a fit of laughter. Macen frowned.

"Don't go spilling any secrets." he advised.

"Don't worry," T'Kir gasped, "I wouldn't want to embarrass Alaric."

"I don't embarrass that easily." Alaric assured her, "But I do know when to respect another's privacy."

"Your loss." T'Kir retorted.

"I'll live." Alaric replied, "Now if you come this way, I'll lead you to the guest mansion."

* * *

He led them outdoors and up the gently sloped grounds to an outbuilding. The SID ground team remembered it as the temporary headquarters for the Omicron. During their first visit to Magna Roma, they had waged a deadly battle within the mansion's walls.

"Do not worry." Alaric seemed to sense the thoughts of the former ground team, "We've repaired the damage…and removed the stench."

Macen grinned, recalling the pungent stale smell of the Omicron, "That's a relief."

Slaves opened the doors to the mansion as they neared it. As before, the doorway opened to reveal a foyer leading to two hallways. Both of them led to areas with rooms to either side of them. The kitchens were in the rear of the building.

Alaric noticed the stares of his guests, "What is it?"

"It wasn't nearly so opulent last time." Macen confessed, "It's a bit overwhelming."

Alaric laughed, "And you haven't seen the rooms yet."

"I'm afraid to." Macen quipped.

Alaric chuckled, "Perhaps you should be. I promise you we will spoil you while you're here."

"Good." T'Kir interjected, taking hold of Macen's arm, "Can't wait to get started."

Alaric beamed, "At least one of you knows how to be an appreciative guest."

"We'll learn," Grace piped up, "or we'll die trying."

"Just think of it as a night on Risa." Danan offered.

"You can be a palace lord with a harem of one." Parva commented. All eyes turned to her and she shrugged, "What?"

Kort bristled, "All this finery. It is not befitting of a warrior."

"Think of it as being a warrior in my bed." Radil countered.

"Ahem," Alaric cleared his throat, "how many rooms will be needed?"

"Six." Danan answered, "One for Hannah, one for Tom, one for Brin and T'Kir, one for Rab and Parva, obviously one for Radil and Kort and one for me."

Alaric clapped his hands and the chief steward ran over, "Prepare six room for occupancy. Spread them out throughout the mansion so that there will privacy. Alert the staff that they are on constant alert." Alaric turned towards the SID team, "The servants are at your beck and call twenty-seven hours a day. I wish you every happiness but I must take my leave of you now. My own family awaits my arrival."

"Thank you." Macen replied.

"It is the least I can do for those that freed my world and fought beside my sister."

Alaric exited the mansion and was escorted by a squad of praetorians back to the palace. The praetorians had been discreet enough to hide their presence when the emperor was escorting his guests to the mansion but all such restrictions were gone now.

"Well, now what?" Daggit asked.

Parva grabbed his arm and began dragging him off towards a room, "Now we get wild!"

The steward interrupted with a polite cough, "These ladies will show you to your rooms."

After everyone was escorted to their rooms, they were given instructions on how to alert the staff to any wants or desires. _Any _wants or desires, it was stressed.

* * *

T'Kir closed the door behind the departing maid and looked at Macen like a tigress views her prey.

"Oi!" Macen exclaimed, "This is going to a long, but very fun, night."

"You don't know the half of it." T'Kir growled as she coiled and pounced.

* * *

Grace stepped out of the bath and dried herself. Wrapping herself in a towel and wrapping her head in another, she exited the bathroom and headed into the bedroom. There, waiting for her, was a tall, muscular Latin holding a bottle of oil.

"Greetings, Milady, I am your masseuse." he said softly, "Any pleasure you can think of, I am here to provide."

"Oh…my." Grace said as possibilities began swirling through her brain.

* * *

Danan was luxuriating in the bubble's of her bath when she heard knocking at her door. She sighed and called out in return.

"I'm busy right now. Please come back later."

After a moment's silence she heard the door creak open. Cursing under her breath, Danan rose and stepped out of the tub. She stealthily crossed the room and reached for her holster. She pulled her phaser free and cradled it in a two handed grip as she pressed her back up against the wall next to the doorway.

She was getting cold but she could hear her intruder rooting around near the bed. She stepped out and saw that the intruder was kneeling next to the bed. She raised her arms and aimed squarely at the back of the perpetrator's head.

"Freeze!" she yelled, "Make one false move and I'll drill you into the wall."

The man, Danan was sure it was a man now, raised his hands and Danan barked, "Slowly get up and turn around." The man started to rise but at a rapid pace.

"I said slowly." Danan growled, "Don't make me castrate you."

The man stopped and then crept up into his full, daunting height; "Good now turn around but do it slowly."

The man slowly turned. Halfway around, Danan recognised who her burglar was, "Tom! What the _frinx_ are you doing?"

"I came to say good night." Riker grinned sheepishly, "I couldn't find you but I heard something so I looked under the bed."

"_What _would I be doing under the bed?" Danan grated.

"You know, avoiding an unexpected intruder."

"I can handle an intruder." Danan retorted, "What I can't handle is you."

"Can you put the phaser down?" Tom suggested.

Danan lowered the phaser and Tom grinned, "This is a good look for you."

Danan snapped the phaser back up, aimed at Riker's chest. His arms flew upright of their own accord.

"Damn it Tom! You scared the shit out of me. I should give a heavy stun blast and let you sleep it off."

"That would hurt."

"_That's _why it's tempting." Danan growled.

"Has anyone ever told you you're sexy when you're angry?" Riker wondered.

"Yeah." Danan relaxed her stance and lowered the phaser, "Brin used to, all the time."

"He was right." Tom lowered his hands, "Look, I'm sorry about creeping into your room. I was hoping that even if you weren't here, I could leave a surprise."

Danan grew suspicious, "What sort of surprise?"

"This." Riker stooped and retrieved the most beautiful rose Danan had ever seen.

Where did you find that?" a captivated Danan asked in awe.

"A rose garden on the estate." Riker answered, "One of the maids led me there and helped clip it and remove the thorns. It's a native to the planet."

"That was actually very sweet." Danan admitted.

"Now that I'm here, and you're here, what's the point in my leaving?" Riker asked.

"I'm taking a bath." Danan said sternly.

"I could use a bath." Riker grinned.

"Oh." Danan's mouth formed an O, "Why not? Sounds fun."

"It will be." Riker promised, "Trust me."

* * *

A sentry delivered Parva and Daggit's request. They swiftly donned Roman armour and wielded wooden swords.

"A night in the arena." Parva said with relish, "The winner of the bout decides how we spend the evening."

"Agreed." Daggit replied and tightened his grip on his sword.

Parva lunged. Daggit sidestepped her jab and smacked her bottom with the flat of his blade. Parva yelped and spun around. She wore a look of wounded pride.

"Remember, I did this for real." Daggit smiled thinly.

Parva delivered a slashing blow that would have bisected Daggit's chest if he'd not blocked it above his shoulder. She stepped back and rotated her shoulder so that she could jab from underneath. Daggit stepped in towards the blow but let it merely graze his shielded ribs. He wrapped his left arm around her right and then straightened his arm, hyperextending hers.

Parva dropped her sword but Daggit wasn't finished. He released her arm with his left and cracked her across the mouth with the pommel of his sword with the right. Parva flew into the wall and slumped to the floor. Daggit knelt before her and placed the wooden blade of his sword into her throat.

"Yield." his voice was merciless.

"Never!" she shot back fiercely.

Daggit threw down his sword and took by the arms and rose. He pulled her in close and roughly kissed her. Her entire body relaxed and when he ended the kiss, she smiled up at him. She wiped her blood off his lips.

"All right, I'll yield."

"My rules, agreed."

"Whatever you say. You won." she wiped the blood from her own lips, "I'll win next time though."

"You usually do." Daggit smiled.

"Have you ever been sorry?"

"Well, there was that one time involving a pair of shackles and a riding crop."

"Oh, don't be so conventional. You enjoyed yourself even if you don't want to admit it."

"Rule number one for this evening…"

"Yes?"

"No more arguing."

"Okay." Parva acquiesced, "Then what?"

Daggit pulled her close then spun her around and propped her arms up and then put her into the wall. As she was leaned up against the wall, he kicked her feet apart.

"First, I'm going to get you out of this armour."

"Fun!" Parva squealed.

* * *

Kort and Radil were making so much noise in their love making that the kitchen staff were gathered around their door and were taking bets on endurance and utterances. After a prolonged silence the staff began grumbling amongst themselves. The door flew open and a very naked, very enraged Kort flew out of the room. The beleaguered slaves scattered before this howling demon become flesh.

Content that he'd done his job properly, Kort returned to the room, "Jenrya my love, now we can truly indulge ourselves."

"Prophets! What's it been up until now?"

"I believe the human term is 'foreplay'."

"By all that's holy, I don't know if I can survive much more."

"You will Jenrya. Your heart will ascend to the stars with mine and we will both be overcome by it."

"Ah, what the hell. Ascend away."

* * *

"I trust the evening went well?" Alaric asked as he stood in the foyer of the Guest's Mansion.

"We were collectively swept off our feet." Macen admitted with a smile.

"Good." Alaric beamed, "Now your attention must turn to military matters. My generals are here, as well as my ablest Space Legion commander. He will guide my forces as they accompany you to the wretched Iotian territory."

"I'm looking forward to it." Macen replied.

"We shall break fast and then attend to business." Alaric informed them assembled group, "Now yesterday you learned of my world's progress. Now I wish to hear of life beyond our provinces."

"We'll do what we can." Macen assured him and then followed Alaric out into the courtyard.


	10. Chapter 10

156

Alaric met with his generals and laid out his instructions for them. Gerhard Kohl had already re-prioritised the fleet's movements. The ground forces were ready to deploy as ship based shock troops. All that was left was having the squadron commander, Titus Scipio, confer with Macen. Joachim Kohl was present as well.

"Titus, Joachim will serve as your liaison with Commander Macen's crew." Alaric informed Scipio.

Scipio looked uncomfortable and shuffled his feet before responding, "Would it not be better for me to assign one of my own centurions to the task? Centurion Kohl could then serve aboard my flagship."

"Where he will undoubtedly be assigned some menial duty below his station." Alaric grated, "Joachim serves aboard the _Obsidian_. That is final."

Scipio bowed his head, "Yes, Caesar."

Alaric took Joachim aside and allowed Macen and Scipio to confer. Utilising stellar cartography charts from the Federation surveyor they were able to select the point in which the Roman forces would fall back and allow the _Obsidian _to proceed into Iotian space without them. They also chose subspace bandwidths by which to communicate. They even discussed possible coordination during an engagement.

Meanwhile, from a corner of the room, Alaric was addressing Joachim, "This is why you must go to the outer realms. They will accept you there."

"I should stay and fight for the rights of my kind." Kohl insisted.

"You will accomplish nothing." Alaric said curtly, "The Senate has decreed that all future clones will be educated in their military roles and nothing else. They will be completely indoctrinated for combat effectiveness and obedience. You are considered to be an anomaly. General Kohl despises you. He only took you in to obey my edict."

"There is no love lost between the general and myself but he despises me?" Joachim was shaken.

"Has he bid you farewell?"

"No."

Alaric wore a pained expression at seeing the sorrow in Kohl's face upon admitting that, "And this is after my direct order to make his peace with you."

"What am I to do then, Caesar? You are more of a father to me than any man alive." Kohl pleaded, "Say what I am to do and it will be done."

"Learn where you came from." Alaric suggested, "The man that you derive from was a good man. Study him and perhaps you will wish to adopt his family name and carry on his legacy."

Alaric granted Kohl a warm, paternal smile, "And perhaps you will continue to regard me as a father even as I see you as my eldest son."

The two men embraced and Kohl struggled to hold back tears, "It will be as you say, Caesar."

"Remember, the crew of the _Obsidian_ will be your new family." Alaric advised, "Treat them with respect and acceptance and they will return the favour."

"I discovered this morning that Tom Riker is a duplicate of another man." Alaric said, "They accept him and treat him with the same respect that they would the original man."

"He is a clone?"

"A duplicate." Alaric explained, "Created by that transporter of theirs in a freak accident. Apparently it had a one in a billion chance of occurring but it happened and he's been adjusting, just as you have, to being the ghost of another."

"Which one is he?" Kohl asked.

"The tall, bearded one." Alaric answered.

Kohl pondered that for a moment, "He seems normal enough."

"As are you." Alaric assured Kohl, "I know you will exceed my every hope for you. Go now, meet your new shipmates."

Kohl bowed his head, "As you command, Caesar."

Alaric watched Kohl depart with a sense of pride. It was good, the Emperor mused, that he could bestow a renewed sense of purpose to the young man. It was his decision that caused the youth to come into being. He had a responsibility to see that the manufactured man had a chance at happiness, the same happiness that his government would deny him. Since Rome was the planetary government that meant there was no safe harbour to found on this globe.

Alaric turned and saw Macen and Scipio shaking hands. _They must have reached an accord. _Alaric thought, _Good. Now we can deploy our forces and repay the remainder of our debt to the Iotians._

Scipio nodded to his approaching liege, "I go now, my Emperor, to inform my gathered comrades as to our mission and our intent."

Macen looked to Alaric, "I'm going as well. I need to prepare my crew as well."

Alaric balled his right fist and held it to his breast, "Strength and Honour."

Scipio returned the salute as a matter of rote but Macen surprised Alaric by his return, "I'm surprised to find you indulging in our custom."

Macen shrugged, "It's similar to a benediction used by philosophers from my world. The Seekers of Truth taught me the sword, as well as many secrets of the universe. I think their teachings would be widely accepted here. I'd like to return some day and take on some pupils."

"We would be honoured." Alaric returned.

"Let's discuss this in greater depth when I return to allow Centurion Kohl to complete his report." Macen suggested.

"I look forward to this conversation." Alaric promised, "It will be a long five years."

"Not for me." Macen grinned, "The price of having lived for over four hundred years. I notice decades not years."

"The wonder of it." Alaric said reverently.

"Your people will learn how to surpass a century." Macen assured him, "Give it time."

"We can only hope." Alaric remarked.

"Have faith." Macen urged.

"I wish you good fortune." Alaric said.

"Thanks." Macen acknowledged the wish, "My team seems to have more than its fair share of luck. Hopefully, we haven't expended our supply of it yet."

"I'm sure that you haven't." Alaric returned, "You toppled Rome. That was no easy feat. Then you overthrew the Omicrons. You are destined for great things. Like Julius Caesar before you, you have a great destiny laid out before you."

"I hope I end better than he did." Macen said wryly.

"I'm sure that you will." Alaric said with confidence.

"Well," Macen wore an embarrassed grin, "I'm going to go before you offer me the throne."

"Would you accept?"

"Hell, no." Macen laughed. While Alaric chuckled Macen exited the anteroom and entered the rotunda. He was pleased to see several of his teammates talking to Joachim Kohl. He was rather surprised to see that T'Kir wasn't one of them.

"What's up?" he asked as he moved up beside her.

"Mr. Kohl is bothered by aliens." T'Kir replied, "Kort, Parva and I make him edgy. Radil and Lees are close enough to human to be accepted."

"What's wrong with you?" Macen wondered.

"Apparently my ears resemble an artist's depiction of an elf. Apparently these beings can either be benevolent or pure evil itself. You never know until it's too late."

"Well," Macen said mirthfully, "you _are _rather predatory."

"Shut up." T'Kir backhanded his arm, "This isn't funny."

"Actually it is rather amusing." Macen said while rubbing his arm, "The Romans are a provincial people. He's probably never seen another species before. He's lived close to the palace for the bulk of his short life and now he's being sent off into space with strange beings from planets he's never heard of."

"Yeah," T'Kir relented, "He's pretty terrified isn't he?"

"He's hiding it well though." Macen opined.

"Icy exterior." T'Kir observed, "But it just hides a fount of anxiety."

"Let's not blow his cover." Macen suggested.

"What d'you take me for? A snitch?" T'Kir protested.

"Perish the thought." Macen assured her.

"Shouldn't we be going now?" T'Kir asked, barely mollified.

"Right you are." Macen grinned and then called out, "All right people gather `round."

Grace manoeuvred Kohl into place and then Macen tapped his comm badge, "Macen to Telrik."

"Telrik here, Captain. How can I help you?"

"Ten to beam up, Chief." Macen informed him.

"I've got you on my scanner." Telrik announced, "Prepare for transport."

Alaric came out in time to see the team disappear in a shimmer of light. After the light was gone, Alaric shook his head.

"I have to get one of those."

* * *

Kohl's first reaction to rematerialising was to vomit. Next, he saw Telrik and drew his sword. He started forward but found himself blocked by Macen.

"Sheath your blade." Macen ordered in a calm, yet firm, voice.

"And if I don't?" Kohl challenged.

Macen's eyes narrowed as he dropped into a fighting stance, "Then I sheath it for you."

"I have the sword." Kohl reminded him.

"If you can get past me, then you can kill Telrik." Macen offered, "No one will stop you."

"And if I kill you?" Kohl enquired.

"It's a training accident." Macen replied.

Kohl lunged forward, thrusting the point of his longsword to where Macen had been a split second before. Macen now stood alongside Kohl. He had ahold of Kohl's sword arm. Macen's left hand was firmly planted in the Roman's elbow while his right had ahold of Kohl's wrist. Macen was slowly bending Joachim's arm and aiming the sword at its wielder.

Kohl flailed the sword about with his wrist but that that was swiftly proving dangerous as the blade approached his face and throat. Finally, Kohl dropped the sword.

"I yield."

Macen released him, "I expect you to obey an order the next time one is given."

Kohl wipe sweat from his brow, "You've proven yourself worthy of respect. I will obey."

"Telrik, summon Yeoman Kalista to the transporter room and have her escort Centurion Kohl to his quarters." Macen instructed the Tellarite.

"He'd better stay away from me." Telrik huffed as he reached fro the intercom controls.

"He's learned his lesson, hasn't he?" Macen looked directly at Kohl.

The Legionnaire nodded, "No violence against the crew…no matter how strange they may seem."

"Got it one." Macen smiled, "We'll be on the bridge if you need us, well, all except Kort. He'll be giving you a physical in an hour. Be sure to have your gear stowed by then. Also, have Yeoman Kalista assist you with selecting more casual attire to wear aboard ship."

Before Kohl could reply, Macen and the bulk of the SID team had exited the transporter room. Kohl looked to Kort, who stood behind him, watching him. Kort smiled and leaned in closer.

"See you in an hour." Kort laughed and exited the room. Kohl nervously paced until Kalista showed up. He half expected her to be covered in fur and sporting a tail. Strangely though, she was bald. She also evoked a reaction out of him that no woman had ever produced before: he became aroused.

Kalista noticed and giggled. Kohl coloured and began apologising profusely, "I'm sorry. This has never happened before."

"Then I'd say it's about time that it had." Kalista softly laughed, "Blood flow is very important."

Kohl darkened, "I didn't mean that 'it' had never happened before. I meant that no woman has ever produced such a reaction from me. I'm at a loss."

Kalista responded with another tinkling laugh, "I am a Deltan. My oath of celibacy is on record. I wouldn't want to take advantage of any of you sexually immature species would I?"

Kalista winked and Kohl began to relax, "The Captain said I was to ask you about more appropriate attire for this ship."

"Now there's a joke!" the room filled with Kalista's delightful laugh, "Have you seen the leather attire his wife wears? I'm the tailor aboard this ship and whatever the replicators can't produce I do. Although, Kort might become jealous of anyone else wearing armour but if you want to wear it, the Captain will understand."

"I would but maybe I could try a different style. Something not used by the Legions." Kohl suggested.

"I'm sure the databanks will have something in your taste." Kalista said, "Come, let's go see your quarters."

Kohl smiled and followed her out. If everyone aboard were this pleasant, he'd have an easy time of it.

* * *

The turbolift doors opened, revealing the _Obsidian's_ bridge. Kohl cautiously stepped out. He was dressed in a long sleeved black crew neck tunic. He also wore black pants. His leather boots were laced up to his calves. The boots were brown to match the leather armour he wore. The armour was composed of interlaced leather strips with a shoulder shield over the left arm.

Kohl paused and stared at the main viewer. Magnified within its screen were Titus Scipio's features. He and Macen were discussing departure schedules.

To Kohl's right sat…T'Kir…he was reasonably sure that the elfin creature sitting there bore that name. What he was certain of is that she was married to the Commander. He supposed he'd have to overcome his reluctance to make her acquaintance in order to appease his new commanding officer.

Rab Daggit sat to Kohl's left. The man was an obvious soldier worthy of the name. Kohl couldn't fathom how Daggit could be attracted to the emerald skinned Parva but that wasn't his concern.

To the right and ahead was the lovely Lisea Danan. Kohl found her spots to be distracting but he was trying to assimilate. He found the ridges on the bridge of Radil Jenrya's nose an equal deterrent but he was struggling to rise above his prejudices.

At the forefront of the circular space sat Hannah Grace. She sat poised and ready for the order to embark on their mission. Kohl found her to be quite beautiful. She'd been kind to him on the planet's surface. He could see himself befriending her.

At the centre of the room sat Brin Macen and Tom Riker. Kohl felt a natural empathy for Riker. Their common origins made them natural allies in this universe.

Macen was proving to be as great an enigma as Alaric had mentioned on countless occasions. Kohl had been raised on tales of Macen and crew's legends. Alaric had done so out of a sense of history to be passed down to Kohl. Kohl's predecessor, this Hal Dracas, had been a member of Macen's crew. Unfortunately, Alaric's dealings with Macen and company had been all too brief to provide any real insight.

Kohl's reflections brought a sour taste to his mouth. He'd never been comfortable with the name Kohl but after his discussion with Alaric he now had an opportunity to discover the man that he'd sprung from. If Hal Dracas met with Kohl's approval, he was determined to take Dracas' family name for his own.

"We'll depart in one hour then." Macen said, concluding his conversation with Scipio. The screen went dark and Macen rose and turned to face Kohl.

"Hello Joachim, feeling a bit overwhelmed?"

Kohl was feeling a bit in over his head but he tried to project a brave front. He had a feeling Macen could pierce his illusions.

"I came to inquire as to my duties."

"Well, at first you'll just be learning the ropes of the ship." Macen answered, "I've ordered a set of padds to be provided to you with the technical specifications of the ship. Next will come briefings on personal weaponry, navigation, stellar cartography, computer operations and field medicine. Alaric said that you were technically gifted so this should prove to be no real challenge."

Kohl felt overwhelmed already, "What am I to do as far as shipboard duties go?"

"You'll sit in on the first half of my watch and get a feel for the command structure of this ship." Macen explained, "The rest of your duty shift will be spent studying aspects of the ship, her crew, and her mission."

"Could…could I make a request?" Kohl was uncertain and felt certain that Macen knew exactly how uncomfortable he was.

"Say the word." Macen reassured him with a warm smile.

"Could I research my progenitor?" Kohl said in a rush, "The Emperor bade me to do it and I must confess that I am personally fascinated by this opportunity."

Macen chuckled, "I took the liberty of granting you access to Hal's service jacket but that's rather dry so I invoked special privilege and granted you access to his personal logs as well."

"I am honoured." Kohl was astounded.

"Honour Hal's memory and we'll both be honoured."

"How do I access this information?"

"T'Kir's our resident computer sorceress." Macen grinned, "Ask any question you have and then you can peruse the files in your quarters or the Team Room."

"The Team Room?"

"Tom, call Kalista up here." Macen laughed, "It seems we forgot to throw in a tour with the rest of this afternoon's activities."

Macen focused on Kohl, "How was your physical?"

"Your doctor is abrasive but no more than Roman doctors. Once you get past his appearance, he's a decent sort."

"Just remember that when you meet Ceryx." Macen advised.

"What's a 'Ceryx'?" Kohl was completely baffled.

"You'll know when you see him." Macen warned.

"Yoo hoo!" T'Kir called out, "Hey Roman boy, get up here. I have to show you how to access your database, the ship's library computer, and a padd."

"What is a 'padd'?" Kohl asked as he warily approached T'Kir's position.

"Personal Access Data Display, or one of these." T'Kir withdrew a padd from her belt, "To use it you do this, 'computer, transfer files to padd 110-086'. The computer will then transfer the selected files to the padd and you can carry it with you and study it at your leisure."

"How do you select a file?" Kohl wondered.

"Brin, I'm going with him back to his quarters and showing him how t'do this on his computer." T'Kir announced as she stood up. She graced Kohl with a wicked smile, "Don't worry, I don't often bite."

Kalista arrived at that moment and ushered the pair onward for Kohl's tour. T'Kir stopped at Kohl's quarters and stepped inside and began preparing Kohl's place in the mainframe.

"Darlin', I hope you know what you're doin'." T'Kir said to an absent Macen as she set out to work.


	11. Chapter 11

174

Kohl sat before Macen's desk in the Captain's Ready Room. T'Kir was curled up on the couch just behind and to the left of the Legionnaire. Macen could sense Kohl's sense of uneasiness and quickly tried to negate the tension.

"One of the things which you will be taught during your stay aboard is the history of the Federation." Macen began, "You've received a version of this story as handed down by Captain Merrick."

"Yes," Kohl agreed, "I've received a full tutorial on the history of the outlanders."

"You've received a version filtered by Roman prejudices and tailored by Merricus to impress the Emperor." Macen countered, "What you'll learn here is the versions of the story as taught to our young."

"Still filtered," Kohl rejoined, "just this time by your prejudices."

"Exactly." Macen confirmed, "It's up to you to decide which versions are true and which versions ring false."

"It is strange to think that your history has many faces." Kohl admitted, "On Magna Roma, all histories must be approved by the Imperial government."

"Welcome to a purportedly free society." Macen remarked, "You're free to do anything but threaten the government."

"I don't see the distinction." Kohl said.

"It's the difference between overt and covert control." Macen explained. Seeing Kohl's ongoing confusion he dismissively waved his hand, "You'll figure it out."

"Perhaps." Kohl replied, "But it will take me time to observe the differences between the Empire and the Federation just as it will take time to discern the differences between Starfleet and the Legions."

"I hate to disappoint but this ship and crew aren't Starfleet." Macen revealed, "We're privateers licensed by the Federation and Starfleet and hired by Starfleet to handle matters too sensitive for Starfleet's regular forces."

"You're civilians?" Kohl asked in disbelief.

"Yup." Macen replied, "At least for the most part. Most of the senior staff retained their Starfleet commissions. Those that didn't have regular commissions have been granted conditional ranks and titles."

"Why…how can your military do this?" Kohl asked.

"Starfleet is a multi-role organisation." Macen explained, "It has defence and policing responsibilities but its primary focus has generally been on exploration and scientific inquiry. We serve in order to grant Starfleet plausible deniability in matters involving classified secrets or delicate political considerations."

"You would be martyrs?" Kohl enquired.

Macen nodded, "If we were taken prisoner, Starfleet Intelligence _might _mount a discreet rescue mission. The Federation would deny any involvement with us and would disavow us."

Kohl abruptly stood, "You mean to say I am travelling with pirate mercenaries? Pirate mercenaries that will be discarded by their employers if they are captured or killed."

"We're privateers." Macen returned passionately, "We're a paramilitary force licensed for scouting, security, and general cargo delivery work. We do not plunder or loot innocent bystanders or those that oppose us. Almost every crewmember is a former Starfleet officer. We still hold to the ideals laid down by that service."

T'Kir cleared her throat and Macen amended his last statement, "Within limits of course."

"This is interesting." Kohl said, "The Empire has employed mercenaries for centuries but none of them ever declared their ideals or intentions to be the same as Rome's."

"It's a tradition among Federation privateers." Macen revealed, "The paramilitary forces strive to live up to a similar standard as the regular forces. They just undertake tasks the regular forces are unsuited for."

"So the mercenaries are auxiliaries for the military." Kohl surmised.

"That's one way of looking at it." Macen confirmed, "Only, we aren't mercenaries."

"You'll forgive me if I withhold judgement on that detail." Kohl remarked, "At least until I have observed your crew in action."

"Of course." Macen clasped his hands together on the desk, "You're free to take the rest of the day off. Your shift will begin at 0700 shipboard time."

"Understood." Kohl rose, "I would like to use the gymnasium. Is that permissible?"

"All of the ship's facilities are at your disposal." Macen informed Kohl, "Feel free to make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you. I shall." Kohl raised his fist to his chest and then turned on his heel and departed.

Macen wore a wry grin as the Ready Room doors closed, "You're dismissed."

"Well, he's certainly gotten in touch with your lax command style." T'Kir quipped.

"His emotions are still in turmoil." Macen grimaced, "What about his thoughts?"

"Are you suggesting that _I_ would monitor someone's thoughts without their permission?" T'Kir demanded.

"In a heartbeat." Macen laughed.

T'Kir shrugged, "Okay, so you're right. He was disturbed to find out this wasn't a Starfleet vessel but he's willing to give us the benefit of the doubt."

"Good." Macen leaned back, "Now if I could only sway Tom over."

The door chime sounded and T'Kir grinned, "Speak o' the devil."

She ran to the door and released it. Riker stood on the other side looking surprised.

"I'd love to take over the watch." T'Kir beamed and ran past Riker to the centre seats. Riker's head snapped around and then came back to true. He stepped into the Ready Room and rubbed his head.

"I really wish she wouldn't do that."

Macen broke into a lopsided grin, "This is mild. You should have seen her before she was medicated."

"I bet she was hell on wheels." Riker chuckled.

"Like she isn't now?" Macen mirthfully asked, "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering what our next plan of action might be and…" Riker hesitated, "and I'd like to apologise. I've been holding our disagreement against you. That's wrong of me. I do trust you Brin. I wouldn't be able to serve under you otherwise. I just wish you'd trust me more."

Macen nodded, "This apology just went further towards accomplishing that goal then anything else you've ever done. This had to be painful."

"More than I care to admit." Riker confessed.

"I'll tell you what." Macen offered, "I promise I'll weigh more of your considerations into my planning as long as you remember that doesn't mean you'll always get your way."

"You were planning on getting rid of me weren't you?" Riker asked forthrightly, "I know I would have in reverse."

"Yes." Macen repaid the honesty in kind, "I won't battle with my XO."

"I wondered if that's why you jumped at having Kohl aboard." Riker admitted.

"It crossed my mind." Macen revealed, "But he's too new to the worlds beyond Magna Roma. He needs seasoning. I'll give him that chance. I owe that much to Hal."

Riker took one of the seats laid out in front of Macen's desk, "I still think we can work out our differences."

"I'm sure we can." Macen confirmed, "It'll require effort from both of us but I think we can reach a happy medium."

"Just don't expect a yes-man." Riker warned.

"I'd lose all respect for you if you suddenly agreed with every decision I made." Macen admitted.

"So, what is our next course of action?" Riker asked.

"Now we proceed to the Iotian frontier." Macen began to explain, "There, we'll leave our Roman escort behind. We'll proceed into Iotian space, get picked up by one of their patrols and get taken straightaway to Iotia itself."

"Unless of course we run into one of the vessels that attacked Outbound Ventures." Riker darkly hypothesised.

"That _is_ a very real possibility." Macen conceded, "Which is why we have the Romans on hand as back up."

"Let's say we get past the outer patrols and we do get escorted to Iotia," Riker began, "how will we convince the Iotians to let us investigate whether or not they attacked us?"

"They'll want to clear their name." Macen replied, "Besides their protection rackets, the Iotians have become moderately successful traders. Trade is playing an even bigger role in each successive year's economy. They don't want their reputation damaged in order to expand their market share."

"It sounds like a similar argument to the one you made for recruiting them." Riker pointed out.

"But now I have concrete evidence on my side." Macen leaned back and placed his hands behind his head, "The Iotians recently approached the Federation and requested greater access to our markets. When they were confronted with allegations related to their forcing worlds to hire them as planetary defenders, the Iotians quickly recanted their previous policy and assured the Finance Minister and the Secretary of the Interior that practice had been terminated."

"Two weeks later, Starfleet Intelligence received the hard data supporting the Iotian claims." Macen continued, "A year before, The Iotian Starfleet had stopped pressuring potential clients and instead let them select or reject the Iotians on their own merits. Those that rejected the protection program were offered weapons and starships instead."

"So now they're weapons dealers." Riker grimaced.

"They also do a brisk trade in alcoholic beverages." Macen revealed.

"I'm surprised the Ferengi haven't sought them out." Riker confessed.

"First contact with the Ferengi Alliance took place two years ago." Macen divulged, "Most of the changes in their trade practices have come about as a result of dealings with a Ferengi shipping magnate named Zem."

Riker grimaced, "What's his story?"

"Zem is a hold out." Macen disclosed, "He believes in the pre-reform Ferengi Alliance. He was an opponent of Grand Nagus Zek's initial reforms and has become a self imposed exile under Rom's administration."

"Angry that he can't fleece the customers any more?"

Macen sat upright and swung his hands down to the surface of the desk, "Something like that. He pioneered the Alliance's move into Iotian space and he's the primary broker for any and all Ferengi related deals in the region."

"Could he have something to do with the attacks?" Riker enquired.

"It's a distinct possibility." Macen shared, "At least, we can't rule it out."

"So what, theoretically, will happen after we share our incriminating evidence and the Iotians choose to save face?" Riker wondered.

"I have no idea." Macen admitted and then shrugged, "Hopefully they'll allow us to investigate and they'll even support our investigation rather than impede it."

"We'll never get that lucky." Riker wore a wry expression.

"The Fates will provide." Macen intoned, "You must have faith."

"I need more than El-Aurian mysticism to engender hope in me." Riker disclosed, "It may work for you but I don't believe in anything higher than the Q Continuum. I find them to be poor gods so I'll settle for nothing but my own goals to drive me onward."

"You're missing out on an entire realm of experience." Macen said sadly.

"I don't need god." Riker declared.

"I'm not asking you to believe in a deity." Macen clarified, "I'm asking you to believe that when the dust settles and time has moved on, the universe will have unfolded as it's destined to."

"That still smacks of a predetermined outcome for life." Riker argued, "I can't hold that view."

"I could start a whole debate based upon semantics but I'll spare both of us." Macen allowed.

"Thanks." Riker rose, "I'd better be getting back. Who knows what T'Kir's ordered in my absence."

"You're the one that left her in charge." Macen quipped, "I'll hold you responsible."

"Sure, blame your whipping boy and leave your wife unprosecuted."

"As long as we have an understanding." Macen grinned.

"I think we do." Riker said and opened the door, "T'Kir! Get out of that chair and get back to your own post!"

Macen's grin blossomed into a smile and he returned his attention to the latest set of dispatches he'd received from Starfleet Intelligence.

* * *

After Macen and T'Kir got off their shift, they had a light dinner in the Team Room and then changed clothes in their quarters and headed for the gym. There they found a small crowd surrounding the sparring ring. Inside the ring Joachim Kohl stood bare-chested wielding a wooden mock up of a Roman short sword. He was practicing with it against an imaginary foe.

Macen put his fingerless gloves on and went to the equipment room. He exited carrying two wooden swords and headed for the ring.

"Hold up there." he called out as he climbed into the ring, "How about a little challenge?"

Kohl appraised Macen then nodded, "All right. You prefer the long sword?"

"These are styled after Japanese _katana_ blades. They only have one edge." Macen described the sword as he held one out, "However, they offer a degree of precision not easily found in other blades."

Kohl hefted the sword. He dodged, thrust, and parried against a shadow. He then did a complicated manoeuvre involving several blocks and cuts from multiple angles. Satisfied, he returned his full attention to Macen.

"Would you care to warm up?"

Macen shook his head, "I was given less time than this to prepare for my bouts in the gladiatorial arena."

"Yes," Kohl nodded, "the Emperor said you were undefeated. We shall see soon enough."

Kohl lunged forward, thrusting his sword outward. Macen deflected the thrust with his sword and then spun on his heel, bringing his sword upward into an arc that descended onto Kohl's throat. Kohl paused while wearing a stunned expression. Macen grinned.

"Let's try again." Macen stepped back and fell into a guard position. Kohl stepped forward to attack. He feinted with another short thrust and then spun and dropped to one knee while sweeping his sword in front of him. It was a good plan only Macen was no longer in front of him.

Macen dove and rolled out of the way of the slicing blade. He came up and swung his sword around to catch Kohl in the back of the neck. The Roman's face was scarlet when he rose.

"Enough games." he demanded, "Stand your ground and face me."

Macen spread his feet apart until they were lined up with his shoulders. He leaned forward, bending his knees slightly and raised his sword vertically in front of him. Kohl pressed the attack, slashing downwards from his right side. Macen blocked the attack but did not press his own in return.

Kohl, seeing this as weakness, pressed on with greater fervour. Macen blocked a thrust towards his heart, then a sweep towards his legs, and finally a hammer blow from above. Macen then grinned and punched Kohl in the face. As the Centurion staggered backwards, Macen kicked his legs out from underneath him. He then dropped to one knee while driving his sword towards Kohl's chest. The point of the sword was firmly planted in Kohl's breastbone when the Roman yielded.

"I admit it." Kohl gasped, "You are a better swordsman than I…and far craftier."

Macen lifted the sword out of Kohl's chest and stood up. He leaned down and offered Kohl his hand. Kohl gratefully accepted the help and rose to his feet.

"I can see now why you remain undefeated in the arena." Kohl admitted, "Where did you learn the sword?"

"Swordplay was a meditative practice amongst select students on my homeworld." Macen replied, "We focused more on the energy and precision of the movements rather than the violence of the actions themselves."

"Whatever the motive, the outcome is damned effective." Kohl tenderly touched his swelling lip.

"Have Kort or the EMH look at that and then call it a night." Macen suggested, "Read up on Hal Dracas or get to know some of the crew."

Kohl nodded, "Perhaps it is time for that."

Macen smiled at him, "Glad to hear it."

"Hey, you!" T'Kir called out, "Get over here."

Kohl looked over towards T'Kir but the Captain shook his head, "It's me she wants."

Kohl frowned, "Roman wives are not as disrespectful as she is. It is improper."

Macen grinned, "Improper is her middle name."

"Truly?" Kohl was surprised.

Macen laughed, "It's an expression. Vulcans don't have middle names and they only use their last names at formal occasions with other Vulcans."

"Do you know her last name?" Kohl wondered.

"Yes," Macen revealed, "but I can't pronounce it."

"I mean it!" T'Kir yelled, "Get over here!"

Macen left the ring and walked over to T'Kir, "What is it?"

"Shut this damned thing up!" T'Kir said as she flung Macen's comm badge towards him, "It's driving me crazy."

Macen caught the chirping badge and went into the equipment room. He returned his sword to its rightful place and tapped the badge with his thumb. T'Kir followed him into the room and leaned up against a storage locker.

"Macen here."

Radil's voice came over the link, "Sorry to bother you, Captain, but we've got a situation."

"Are you telling me we have a security alert?" Macen incredulously asked.

"It's Harry Mudd." Radil explained, "He's threatening to kill himself if you don't speak with him."

Macen sighed, "I thought I'd managed to avoid him for too long. I'll be right down."

"Hurry." Radil urged, "His whining is going to force me to shoot him."

"Feel free." Macen chuckled darkly.

"Don't tempt me." Radil growled and closed the circuit.

"So…" T'Kir smirked, "Harry Mudd. Are you gonna play nice?"

"Not if I can help it." Macen returned.

"D'you think handing him over to Radil is the best idea?" T'Kir enquired, "I thought the Bajorans wanted him intact and undamaged."

"They'd prefer him that way." Macen corrected, "However, they just want him and will accept him in any condition."

"As long as they don't protest." T'Kir remarked, "We've got enough trouble with the Council of Five as it is."

"Careful." Macen advised, "That's one group you don't want to be actively referencing unless you want a cortical monitor planted in your skull."

"How _did _you avoid that anyway?" T'Kir's eyebrow rose.

"I simply informed them that El-Aurian minds work differently then your average humanoid's. They checked their medical records and agreed with me. I was allowed to tell you about the group because you'd get it from my mind through our telepathic bond anyway."

T'Kir's eyes widened, "But you can block my telepathy."

"I can easily shut you out completely." Macen explained, "Precise topical exclusions are infinitely harder and require constant concentration."

"So," T'Kir grew pensive, "to keep a secret you have to block me out completely and for the rest of our lives."

Macen grinned, "That's about it."

"Good to know." T'Kir remarked with a matching grin of her own.

"Let's change clothes and meet with Mudd." Macen took her hand and led her out of the equipment room. Outside of it, Kohl waited to access the room and return the _katana_ mock up to its place. He had to ponder what he'd overheard of Macen and T'Kir's conversation. It had proven to be as confusing as it had been enlightening.

The elfin woman could read thoughts. . Elves were supposed to have magical powers and she was no exception. Kohl knew he'd have to be careful around her. He had to study her weaknesses and be prepared to kill her if the need arose.

Knowing he'd accomplish little else today, Kohl returned to his quarters and accessed Hal Dracas' personnel jacket. Impressed with what he found there, he then shifted to personal logs. Those kept him up until the wee hours of the morning.

* * *

Having showered and dressed in freshly cleaned and pressed examples of their usual attire, Macen and T'Kir made their way to the brig. Radil was sitting in the adjacent security office. She seemed inordinately pleased with herself.

"How long ago did you stun him?" Macen asked.

"Roughly thirty minutes ago." Radil happily replied.

"Told ya we should'a been faster." T'Kir chastised Macen.

"Do you have a stimulant ready?" Macen asked, ignoring T'Kir.

"Yes, but we had to guess at the dosage." Radil answered, "We could call Kort in."

"Your calculations are probably pretty close to the mark." Macen remarked, "Let's just revive him."

Radil shrugged, "It's your call." She retrieved a hypospray from the office and crossed the corridor. The door slid open to reveal the brig. Two the three cells were empty and darkened. The third had its lights and forcefield on. Mudd was laid out on his bunk snoring softly.

"I hit him with the lightest stun setting the phaser has." Radil revealed.

"Drop the forcefield." Macen ordered.

"Do we have to wake him up?" Abigail Collins, the Deputy Chief of Security, asked.

"`Fraid so, Abby." Radil answered, "Captain's orders."

"Damn." Collins muttered.

"I can watch the brig during this." Radil said to Collins, "Take a break then have Jynx relieve me here."

"You got it!" Collins replied with enthusiasm and quickly exited the room.

"Has he really been that much trouble?" Macen asked.

"He just won't shut up." Radil bitterly replied, "He's constantly wheedling, trying to persuade us to release him and get him off the ship. I have to confess that we're all tempted to do it just to get rid of him."

"Well, hopefully I can shut him up." Macen responded.

"May the Prophets guide you." Radil intoned. She then deactivated the forcefield and stepped into the cell. She stooped and pressed the hypo against Mudd's neck and depressed the activation stud. It emptied its contents into him with a hiss.

Radil back-pedalled out of the cell and let Macen step in while Mudd's eyes fluttered. His vision cleared and he looked up to see Macen standing over him. Mudd looked angry for a second and then he broke into his best ingratiating smile.

"Captain!" Mudd exclaimed as he swung his legs onto the floor and rose to a seated position, "You're a hard man to reach."

"I'm here now, Mudd." Macen said tersely, "What do you want?"

"Please, call me Harry." Mudd insisted.

"What do you want, Mudd?" Macen grated.

"I can tell that you're a hard man, Captain, so I'll play this straight." Mudd replied, "You're a business man, like myself. I am prepared to offer you a substantial reward for my release. It will be far superior to whatever pittance the Bajorans are offering for me."

"They aren't offering anything but a pat on the head." Macen informed Mudd, "But I'd rather take their pat versus your latinum."

Mudd's features hardened as he shrugged off his jacket, "You're forcing my hand then."

"Brin!" T'Kir yelled, "Watch out!"

Mudd ripped open a section of his forearm and withdrew two small devices. He activated a small ball and it began to glow. Macen drew his phaser as Mudd held the glowing ball aloft. Mudd shielded his eyes and T'Kir yelled for Macen and Radil to close their eyes. Before Macen could heed her warning the room filled with a searing, blinding light.

Macen staggered and ran into the cell's bulkhead. He heard a slight humming noise followed by a phaser blast.

"Damn it!" T'Kir snarled and then a comm badge chirped, "T'Kir to Collins, we've had a jailbreak. The prisoner beamed out of the brig. His location is unknown."

That said, T'Kir rushed to Macen's side and began inspecting him for wounds, "You seem all right except for your vision." She slapped her comm badge, "T'Kir to Kort, medical emergency in the brig."

"How'd he rip his arm open?" Macen asked as he rapidly blinked his eyes.

"He has a biosynthetic arm." Radil answered even as she widened and closed her eyes, "We scanned it but it looked normal to the tricorder. How the hell did he escape?"

"After setting off the flash bomb, Mudd activated a small capsule. He beamed out at that point."

"A remote transport?" Radil wondered.

"No." Macen said firmly, "A portable transporter. Starfleet has been field testing similar prototypes. I'd love to know how Mudd got ahold of one."

"You can ask him as soon as we catch him." T'Kir growled, "Or I can rip it out of his mind."

"T'Kir…" Macen began firmly.

"I know, I know." T'Kir defensively interjected, "No tearing other people's minds apart. I've heard the lecture."

"Mudd's still on the ship." Macen asserted, "The microtransporter can only beam to preset locations or fix on a homing beacon."

"He never opened his arm up before." Radil promised, "He was monitored 24/7."

"He must have planted a beacon while he was wandering all over the ship." Macen concluded, "He'll try leaving the ship next."

"Radil tapped her comm badge, "Abby, lock down the shuttlebays!"

"Already on it, Boss." came the reply.

The brig door slid open and Kort bounded into the room, "What is the emergency?"

"Brin and Jenrya looked a flash bomb full in the eye. They're blind." T'Kir described.

Kort moved towards Radil but T'Kir blocked him, "Don'cha think the Captain of the boat should get looked at first?"

Kort looked abashed, "You are right. I'm sorry."

He began an examination of Macen's eyes. When he finished his scans, he moved on to Radil. Closing his tricorder, he turned to face T'Kir.

"Can you help guide the Captain to Sickbay?"

"Of course." T'Kir replied, "Can their eyesight be restored?"

"I think so." Kort cautiously replied, "But I need to regenerate their corneas and optic nerve endings. There may be complications. Their prognosis is guarded but hopeful. I think they both can make a full recovery."

"Then what are we waiting for?" T'Kir demanded, "Let's get them to Sickbay!"

Kort took Radil's arm, "Trust me Jenrya. Let me be your eyes."

T'Kir took Macen's arm, "Same story Brin."

"Not a problem." Macen assured her. The quartet moved out. Slowly and awkwardly, they made their way out of the brig and into the turbolift down the corridor. They made it to Sickbay a few minutes later and Kort set to work restoring their vision. Meanwhile the hunt for Harry Mudd began in earnest.


	12. Chapter 12

187

On the bridge of the _Obsidian_ Riker and Forger were galvanised into action. The security alert had been issued ten minutes ago and there still hadn't been a sign of Mudd. Danan had returned to the bridge and was guiding the gamma shift OPS officer utilise the internal sensors in an effort to trace Mudd's transporter beam. The work had been engrossing until an alarm sounded at the OPS station.

"Commander," the OPS watch officer began to report, "someone has activated a lifepod on deck six, section five."

The ship lurched out of warp and everyone took hold of something.

"The computer has overridden helm control in order to facilitate a lifepod launch." Rhiann reported.

"Lifepods across deck six, sections four and five have been primed for launch!" Danan reported, shoving the OPS officer out of the way.

"Alert security." Riker growled, "And prepare the tractor beam. I don't want a single pod escaping our net."

"Commander," Danan said urgently, "Someone is trying to override the lockdown on the main shuttlebay."

"Redirect Security there!" Riker ordered, "Insure that the lockdown stays in effect."

"We need T'Kir." Danan replied, "This guy's too good. His abilities surpass mine."

"Can't you encrypt the control files?" Riker asked.

"I can try and activate one of T'Kir's encryption protocols." Danan said.

Forger was standing by the Tactical station, "Security reports that they already have a man down in the shuttlebay but that he's not responding to hails."

"Inform Security that Mudd is considered armed and dangerous." Riker commanded.

"Security acknowledges and is en route to the shuttlebay." Forger acknowledged.

"Good." Riker shifted in his seat, "I want this bastard caught."

* * *

Harry Mudd sat in the cockpit of the _Corsair_ desperately trying to override the computer's lockout of the shuttlebay's control system. He was all too aware of the ticking minutes and seconds displayed on the runabout's chronometer. Sweat poured from every pore. Mudd wiped his eyes and glanced over at the centrally located clock again.

_Too long_, his frenetic brain thought, _Too long, they'll be here any second from now. _

Harry knew he still had the phaser he'd taken from the guard outside of the shuttlebay. He also realised that he'd probably never get a chance to use it. He wasn't a violent man by temperament. Despite being a gunrunner, Mudd had never fired a phaser in his life.

He'd crept up on the guard and hit him over the head several times with his synthetic arm. Unlike proper Federation biosynthetics, Mudd's arm was of Ferengi manufacture and possessed more weight than a natural limb. With the neural sensors deactivated his clubbing of the guard was akin to bludgeoning him with a truncheon.

Suddenly, his probes penetrated the computer's security routines. He quickly began inputting commands and the bay depressurised. He put his own encryption matrix around the bay's tractor beam controls. Opening the bay doors, he activated the runabout's manoeuvring thrusters.

The runabout sailed out of the bay and its impulse engines flared. Mudd swore upon seeing the squadron of Roman vessels surrounding the _Obsidian_ but quickly realised that he had to escape. He couldn't prevent the strange ships from pursuing but that was a chance Mudd was willing to take. He cleared the Roman ships and activated the warp engines. He slipped into subspace and was away.

* * *

"Dammit!" Danan snarled, "He locked me out of the bay's tractor controls."

"Can you access the runabout's computers and shut it down?" Riker quickly asked.

"He's disabled the subspace transceiver." Danan answered, "He's a communications black hole."

Riker turned to Forger, "Can you disable his engines?"

Forger shook her head, "He's travelling too close to the Nova Roman ships. We'll risk hitting them."

"Damn." Riker swore under his breath, "What about the ID transponder can we get a lock on that?"

"If we're in the same system, sure." Danan replied.

"Commander, the Commander of the Roman forces would like to speak with you." the Tactical rating announced.

"Put it on screen." Riker said wearily.

* * *

"It's my fault." Collins miserably reported.

Macen, his sight restored, shook his head, "It's more my fault than yours Abby. I should have had Mudd locked in the brig from the moment he stepped foot on the ship. I also should have had the forcefield to his cell reactivated and interviewed him from the room's security desk."

Collins blushed, "I didn't mean to impugn you, sir."

"You didn't." Macen assured her, "My own mistakes did."

The Sickbay door opened and admitted T'Kir, "I don't believe it." she muttered, shaking her head, "He beat one of my encryption protocols. Sure, it was one of my more elementary codes but still…"

"This means I'll have to revise all the simpler codes across every system." T'Kir whined.

Macen put an arm around her waist, "Buck up little trooper, it'll be a challenge. Someone somewhere was bound to crack one of your codes eventually."

"They could'a waited `till I was dead." T'Kir bitterly replied.

Collins looked perplexed so Macen explained, "Her encryption codes are her babies. She takes violating one of them very seriously."

Collins nodded, "That's how I feel about my security protocols."

"So you understand the self flagellating aspect of the whole ordeal." Macen surmised.

"Don't worry, ma'am." Collins urged, "We can both get through this."

Macen was gratified to hear the confidence in Collins' voice but T'Kir's ire was piqued, "Did you just call me 'ma'am'?"

"Yes, ma…yes, I did." Collins stammered.

"I'm…_not_…a…ma'am!" T'Kir grated, "Got it?"

Collins' head bobbed, "Yessir!"

T'Kir snorted, "That's a little better. 'T'Kir' works best."

Collins looked shell-shocked as she stammered, "Yes, ma…yes, si…I mean, yes, _T'Kir_."

T'Kir beamed, "Has a musical quality don'cha think?"

"Stop torturing poor Abigail." Macen instructed T'Kir and then he returned his focus to Collins, "I look forward to your after action report, Deputy. Just make sure it's not full of self-recrimination. If you need help being objective, have Radil help you out."

"Damn straight." Radil said from the biobed where Kort was regenerating her optic nerves.

"Hold still." Kort commanded, "Or you'll stay blind."

Radil subsided and Kort turned off his equipment, "Your vision should return in a moment. I'll check on you in a few minutes and take a few readings." He released his hold on Radil's shoulder and returned to Macen. He waved a tricorder in front of Macen's eyes.

"How's your vision?" Kort asked.

"It started off blurry but it's come back to normal." Macen remarked.

"Look into this." Kort handed Macen an opaque pair of goggles.

Macen put them on. He saw a series of red and blue dots light up followed by a purple light that seemed to penetrate his eye.

"Keep looking straight ahead." Kort said as he monitored the goggle's readings from a panel behind his diagnostic station, "All right, you can remove the device now."

Macen removed the goggles and widened his eyes before blinking a few times, "I always hate those tests. How's my vision?"

"Better than before your exposure to the flash bomb." Kort revealed, "That may be temporary or it may be permanent. Cases can go either way. Either way, you'll at least have normal vision."

"Thanks." Macen said gratefully, "Can I go now?"

"Yes." Kort replied, "It would be best if you rested your eyes for the rest of the evening. You shouldn't have any trouble with your following duty shift. Call me if you have any problems."

"You got it." Macen grinned.

"I mean it." Kort stressed.

"I know." Macen said, "Good night. Hang in there Jenrya. The worst is past you."

Radil blinked in the direction of his voice, "I'll believe it when I see it…literally."

There was a chorus of chuckles at that and Radil smiled, "I'll be fine. Go take care of yourself."

"Aye, aye Captain." Macen retorted and he and T'Kir exited Sickbay. Collins stayed behind to hear Radil's opinion Mudd's escape. Kort clucked his tongue.

"When I discharge you, you have to go straight to your quarters. I'll escort you personally."

"Will you stay?" Radil asked.

"Of course." Kort gently affirmed, "Someone has to care for you. You won't do it for yourself."

"That's not true!" Radil protested.

"Yes, it is and we both know it." Kort's bass was low and soothing in its gentleness, "Jenrya, my love, you are my worst patient."

"Hey, you're kind of blurry now." Radil suddenly remarked, "Can I go now?"

"Case in point." Kort chuckled, "You aren't going anywhere until I see how the nerves have regrown themselves and then I shall have to test your visual acuity."

"Oh, very well." Radil huffed.

Kort lifted her chin and softly kissed her on the lips, "I'm glad you've opted to cooperate. I'd hate to sedate you."

"You wouldn't dare!" Radil exclaimed.

"Try me." came Kort's rejoinder.

"Oh." Radil's mouth formed a perfect "O", "I see."

"I'm glad." Kort admitted.

"I love it when you're stern." Radil confessed, "It's sexy."

"Aren't I though?" Kort teased.

"Watch it mister." Radil warned, "When I can see clearly again I might have to kick your backside."

"Of course you will." Kort rumbled, "How is your vision?"

"Blurry but I can make out general shapes and sizes now." Radil reported.

"Excellent." Kort smiled, "We're almost out of here."

"What do you mean 'we'?" Radil asked, "I'm revoking my invitation."

"I'm the CMO of this ship." Kort replied, "I can go into any cabin that I deem there's a medical emergency."

"I see." Radil said pensively, "And my case qualifies as a medical emergency?"

"It does to me."

Radil smiled despite herself, "I think you need to work on your objectivity, Doctor."

"That's why we have an EMH." Kort responded, "So I can handle the house calls."

"My 'house' better be the only one you're calling on." Radil growled.

"Assuredly." Kort took her hand and pressed it up to his chest, "How are you doing?"

"Vision's almost back to perfect." Radil happily informed him.

"Good." Kort activated his tricorder, "It means the neurons are reintegrating nicely." He waved the device over Radil's eyes. She frowned.

"Watch it with that thing buster."

"You should be ready for the final set of tests in another…five minutes or so."

"So what do I do until then?" Radil complained.

"Reassure young Abigail here that her efforts were not in vain." Kort suggested and stepped away.

"Abby, I swear, if you ever utter the words 'it's my fault' in connection to this incident again I will skin you and tan your hide into a leather coat for T'Kir to wear." Radil clutched the air in front of her.

"No, ma'am." Collins fired off.

"That sounded a tad rehearsed to me." Radil chastised her, "Try it now…with conviction."

"Yes ma'am, I mean no ma'am…I don't know what I mean. All I know is he got away and I'm confused as to who's at fault."

Radil squeezed Collins' arm, "We all are, Abby. We got overconfident. We were so certain that no one could escape that we let a prisoner, a fairly dangerous prisoner as that it turns out, escape. Besides you only had six Security officers on duty and eight decks and 180 metres of ship length to patrol."

"The Captain already admitted he shouldn't have been in the cell with Mudd. I shouldn't have let that situation develop and T'Kir relied too heavily on her techno wizardry." Radil continued, "You and the others probably thought, 'He's just a podgy middle-aged man. He can't evade us forever.' Was it something like that?"

Radil heard a sniffle and caught the bobbing of Collins' head, "I thought so. All the earlier mistakes outweighed your natural reaction. We got careless, the entire ship's company, that is. I have a few drills in mind that I think will rattle a few cages."

Radil could almost make out Collins' wan smile, "Now, off with you. Prepare your after action report but don't file it until I've signed off on it."

"Yes ma'am." Collins replied with some of her usual confidence, "Have a good night."

As the doors closed behind the departing Collins, Radil leaned back onto her bed and yelled out, "So, Loverboy, what are your plans for this evening?"

"I thought I would hold you in my arms until we both fell asleep." Kort said as he walked up behind Radil and wrapped his arms around her.

"This is nice." she purred, "Tonight sounds a little tame compared with some of your recent exploits."

"There is a time for fervour and a time for tenderness." Kort replied.

"And this is?"

"A time for fervent tenderness." Kort kissed the back of her head.

"Yeah." Radil smiled, "That's what I thought too."

* * *

On the bridge, Riker had just fended off the last of Titus Scipio's questions and he leaned back in his chair. Danan joined him by sitting in the XO's chair. Forger was still assisting the Tactical rating's attempts to track the rapidly departing _Corsair_.

"Tough day." Danan remarked.

"Losing a prisoner and lying to an ally over what actually happened?" Riker asked scornfully, "Nah, happens every day around this time."

"Sarcasm notwithstanding," Danan replied, "you did a good thing. The Romans wouldn't understand the reality of the situation and the last thing we need right now is for them to pack up and go home."

"That's what I thought." Riker mumbled miserably.

"Tom, look at me." Danan commanded and Riker complied, "Deceptions and half truths are our stock in trade. We handle the cases no one wants to know about. The SID invents cover stories to explain our proximity to events and then spindoctors the entire affair so it appears no Federation forces were involved."

"I know our job Lees." Riker whispered, "I'm just not entirely comfortable with it. Starfleet is above this type of secrecy and sleight of hand."

"You're not in Starfleet any more." Danan reminded him, "You work for Outbound Ventures, Inc.. Starfleet hires us to do jobs they'd rather not be involved in but that commission you're sporting is purely ceremonial. They'll only drag that out to crucify you in case of a foul up. Your reserve commission carried far more weight."

Riker looked on the verge of becoming upset and then his anger subsided, "You're right. I know you're right. It just galls me."

"Then you need to find a berth on another ship. Preferably a command slot." Danan advised.

"Now you sound like Macen." Riker bemoaned.

"Great minds sometimes think alike." Danan shrugged, "Just think about it, okay?"

Riker nodded, "All right. I will."

"In the meantime, support your crew." Danan rose and made to leave.

"Will you still be up when I get off duty?" Riker asked.

"I think so." Danan smirked, "Why?"

"I'd like to finish our conversation in private."

Danan's smirk became a consoling smile, "I'll be waiting with dinner."

"Thanks." Riker gratefully smiled in return.

After Danan stepped into the turbolift and departed, Riker stroked his beard and mused to himself, _How'd I get so lucky to get a friend like that?_

* * *

Joachim Kohl sat reading in his quarters. He'd shucked his armour and had transferred from the desk to the bed. It had taken some time to adjust to the padds, but now that he had, he enjoyed them. He could adjust the font, bookmark favourite passages, and run topical searches. It was so much easier than reading a book.

It was also less rewarding. Reading a padd was a lot like doing research or searching a database. It lacked the intimacy of a bound manuscript. In the end, Kohl couldn't decide which he liked better.

He'd started with the technical manuals assigned to him by Comm…no, _Captain_ Macen. He'd soon tired of these and switched to the topic that had been nagging at him ever since he'd encountered these aliens: the life of Hal Dracas. The chance to study his progenitor, in the man's own words, was a golden opportunity that shouldn't be missed.

Kohl was hesitant. What if Dracas turned out to be a reprobate or some other kind of lout? What if he was a coward? Kohl could handle anything but that. If his progenitor was a coward, who was to say that wasn't part of his genetic make up?"

Kohl began with Dracas' service jacket. It showed him to be an exceptional officer with a rare gift for understanding theoretical and practical engineering. The bulk of his career had been spent in a dockyard but the last few years had been spent with Macen and company. It was with them that his talents came out into the forefront.

He'd displayed, and been cited for, personal courage on several occasions during his tenure with the SID team. Macen's report outlining Dracas' death was testament to his commitment to his comrades and his utter lack of fear in the face of mortal danger. He'd known he was about to die when he gave himself to the mob and yet did it anyway. This was a moment Kohl was proud of and it struck a resonant chord with him.

After finishing Dracas' official records, Kohl turned to Hal's personal logs. Kohl was already beginning to feel a great affinity for Dracas but the personal logs were the capstone. Dracas' struggle to come to terms with his sexuality in the face of his people's violent condemnation of his lifestyle gripped Kohl. He too struggled with his identity. He'd been forced to hide the fact that he was a clone most of his short life.

When the truth was revealed, Kohl would lose his friends and the respect of his superior officers. Dracas lost his life. Kohl would merely lose his freedom and his rights as an individual. Dracas had faced his persecutors and shamed them with his courage and resolve. Kohl could only wish that he could meet a similar fate.

Looking at the chronometer on the nightstand, Kohl realised that he'd read throughout the nigh and he only had fifteen minutes to report for duty on the bridge. As he bustled about and learned the intricacies of the sonic shower, Kohl came to a startling realisation. It was as Alaric had suggested. Kohl no longer wished to bear his "stepfather's" name. From this day forward, he would be known as Joachim Dracas and he would carry on the proud tradition set forth by his predecessor.


	13. Chapter 13

202

Joachim Kohl emerged from the turbolift onto the bridge with thirty-seven seconds remaining before the alpha shift started. As Kohl began to move towards the command station, he noticed T'Kir giving him a bemused smile. As he rounded the command station and set his sword down beside the XO's seat, Kohl noticed that Macen was also looking at him with some amusement.

"I'm sorry about my tardiness, Captain." Kohl apologised, "It shan't happen again."

"You look tired, Mr. Kohl." Macen observed, "Did you have trouble sleeping?"

Kohl shuffled his feet, "I spent the evening learning about my progenitor. I have nearly finished the selection of personal logs you provided."

"There's more where that came from." Macen revealed, "I'll authorise their release to you."

"And another thing," Kohl was suddenly emboldened, "I've made a decision about my new life. I no longer wish to be known as Joachim Kohl."

Macen's eyebrow quirked upward, "And what would you like us to call you then?"

"I wish to carry on the legacy of courage and service that my progenitor established. Over the last night I found myself closer to Hal Dracas then I have ever been to my 'adopted family' on Magna Roma. I want to carry on that connection by adopting Dracas' surname and make it my own."

The would be Dracas was suddenly aware of every eye on the bridge studying him, "I mean no disrespect. On Magna Roma we carry the names of our fathers with pride and try to live up to the legacy begun by them. Hal Dracas was a great man who has inspired me to do my absolute best in whatever service my Emperor sees fit to place me in. I ask this as a orphan seeking his true father for the first time."

Macen smiled, "I don't know how we could refuse you then." He twisted in his seat, "T'Kir, alter the databanks. Joachim Dracas joined the crew yesterday and arrived for duty this morning."

"You got it." T'Kir replied happily.

"Good choice." Daggit offered Dracas, "You'll do Hal proud."

"Welcome to the family." Grace called out, giving Dracas a thumb's up.

"Back to your stations people." Macen insisted, "We're almost to the Iotian frontier. Who knows how far they've stretched beyond their borders since we were last here."

"We're almost at the drop off." Grace announced, "ETA 12 minutes."

"Drop off?" Dracas asked as he sat down beside Macen's chair. Macen activated a control on the console separating the two and a small stellar map displayed on a screen.

"The illuminated dot is where we're leaving our Roman escort. We'll proceed into this green shaded area and test the Iotians' reaction to our presence."

"So," Dracas grinned appreciatively, "this is where it gets dangerous."

"One thing you'll find working with us," Macen counselled, "is that your life will never lack for peril."

Dracas smiled, "I look forward to it then."

"Are you a Roman or a Klingon?" Macen asked.

"I'll have to look into your second reference before answering." Dracas admitted.

"Add Cardassians and Romulans to the list and you'll have the other three major powers in the Alpha Quadrant." Macen advised, "I'll bookmark the files for your data console."

"I'd be grateful." Dracas sighed, "I'm still getting used to all of your various species and empire names."

"So are we." Macen laughed, "Our alien database grows every day and empires change names and borders all the time."

Dracas smiled at the truth behind the joke, "Then it's essential that I begin my education right away."

"You will." Macen assured him, "First you have to explore yourself and your place in the galaxy a bit. Then you need to know how this ship and crew functions. Finally, you'll need to search the databases on the major powers and their relevance in interstellar relations."

"So much studying." Dracas complained, "Where is the action?"

"You'll see action when you're prepared for it and you've earned my trust." Macen promised.

"Does this have anything to do with my being a clone?" Dracas asked with suspicion.

Macen laughed, "No, it has to do with you coming from a third rate power and being at least a century behind on the technology surrounding you."

"The new _Banner_-class cruisers are the equal to this craft." Dracas proudly proclaimed.

"This ship is the least among the Federation's front line vessels." Macen confided, "This one has actually been substantively upgraded from the original design."

"Truly?" Dracas asked in wonder, "It is virtually weaponless."

"We don't look for trouble." Macen explained, "It just finds us."

"Still," Dracas argued, "to assign a paltry vessel like this to a unit such as yours is…"

"Perfectly logical." Macen countered, "We're a covert ops unit hired by a special operations agency to be discreet. We have a surveyor because it _isn't _warship. It's research vessel. This allows the subjects of our investigations to lower their guard and trust us to a point. This is an invaluable first impression."

"So what happens when they meet you in person?"

"Usually?" Dracas nodded and Macen shrugged, "We get shot at."

"I thought as much." Dracas replied.

"Captain, we're almost on top of the drop off point." Grace announced

"T'Kir, signal Scipio and wish him well." Macen ordered.

A moment later, T'Kir replied with, "Commander Scipio acknowledges and awaits your signal."

"Here we go." Macen murmured.

* * *

A few hours later, Dracas was reviewing technical manual on padds that T'Kir had provided. The technologies uniting the different parts of the ship were becoming organic in his perspective. He could understand how each component fit in with the next. He could swear he was channelling the spirit of Hal Dracas.

"May I spend the rest of my shift down in Engineering?" Dracas asked.

"Certainly." Macen permitted and Dracas was out of his seat and in the turbolift before anyone could react.

"Somebody warn Parva." Macen suggested.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing with that thing in here?" Parva demanded, pointing at Dracas' sword.

"A legionnaire is never found without his sword." Dracas puffed out his chest.

"Honey, this ain't the Legion." Parva replied, "You're in the middle of my damn engine room and I'm a second away from ripping you in half!"

Dracas just looked at her with a defiant glare and Parva sighed, "Macen's not the only person on this ship that knows how to fight with a sword. I'm twice as strong as you are, faster, and a whole lot meaner. Take it from me, you're better off taking the thing off and returning it to your quarters."

Dracas seemed on the verge of arguing when Parva added, "You can argue with me or with the Captain. Take your pick."

Dracas subsided and exited Engineering. He stormed off to his quarters and threw the sword across the bed. Squaring his shoulders he turned on his heel and marched straight back to Engineering.

"Satisfied?" he demanded of Parva.

"Better." she conceded, "I can deal with the attitude. I've got a bit of one myself. Just remember, since Hal Dracas left this ship, this has been my Engineering compartment. I'm the goddess here. Everything you do in here is an act of worship and I punish those that don't offer fealty."

That, at least, was an attitude familiar to Dracas, "I'll do my part. Answer a few questions and I can begin work immediately."

A lopsided smirk landed on Parva's face, "You wouldn't mind of I had a few people check on your work?"

"Not at all." Dracas replied, "It would only be prudent."

"Okay, ask away." Parva relented and Dracas began his questions.

* * *

"We've got a sensor return." T'Kir announced, "Approaching from 90.36, 38 degrees down bubble."

"Classification?" Macen asked.

"It appears to be a _Constitution_-class analogue." T'Kir reported, "She's running with shields up but her weapons and targeting arrays are powered down."

"Raise shields." Macen ordered, "Sound General Quarters but do not target the Iotian ship."

"They're slowing and turning to come along side." T'Kir informed Grace.

"Match velocity and distance." Macen ordered.

"Brin," T'Kir looked up from her sensor read outs, "This isn't an ordinary _Constitution_-class, it's a _Constitution_ refitted into an _Enterprise_-class."

"They're alongside now, Captain, and matching velocity at warp 6." Grace reported.

"Take us down to warp 5 and see what they do." Macen rubbed his chin.

"They're decelerating with us and maintaining distance." Grace informed him.

"They don't want to get too close in case the shooting starts." Macen opined.

"I'd do the same." Daggit admitted.

"T'Kir, put me on hailing frequencies." Macen waited for the camera light above the viewer to come on and then he began, "To the Captain of the Iotian vessel, this is Captain Brin Macen of the Federation starship, _Obsidian_. I've entered your sovereign space on an urgent mission that will assist the Iotian government, and Starfleet, in clearing its name before interstellar relations are irreparably damaged. Please acknowledge my signal as a gesture of good faith and we can begin the process of restoring your service's good name."

The transmission ended and the turbolift doors opened to disgorge Riker, "Have we met the Iotians?"

"Just hailed them." Macen replied, "Now we wait and see if they can do something besides match our course and speed."

Riker took his seat beside Macen's, "Where's wonder boy?"

Macen was irked but refused to show it, "Joachim is down in Engineering getting a tutorial from Parva."

Riker chuckled darkly, "_That _should prove educational."

To Riker's left, Daggit bristled but remained silent. Riker counted his blessings that the Angosian didn't feel called upon to defend his girlfriend's honour. Riker had doubts as to whether he could weather an assault by Parva. He _knew _he didn't stand a shadow's chance in Hell against Daggit.

"Brin, the Iotian ship is returning your hail." T'Kir interrupted.

"Visual feed?"

"You betcha."

"Put it on the main screen." The image on the viewer changed from a starfield warped by faster than light travel to that of a humanoid in his early thirties. He wore a Starfleet gold tunic with the breast insignia of the Iotian Starfleet Command. Seated in his command chair with his legs crossed, Macen could also make out his black pants and boots. He was the very image of a mid 23rd century Federation Starfleet officer.

"This Captain Pollux of the _ISS Enterprise_." the sandy haired man began, "I return your greetings and look forward to hearing how you can enhance the reputation of the Iotian Starfleet."

"I look forward to clearing our potential dispute." Macen replied, "Several days ago, ships and employees belonging to my company were assaulted and killed by Iotian Starfleet vessels. We have transcribed sensor logs as well as personal logs attesting to this fact. We seek the Iotian Starfleet's assistance in tracking down and prosecuting the guilty parties."

"You have proof that these were Iotian ships?" Pollux asked.

"We have proof of the classes of starships used and their point of origin." Macen answered, "The ships themselves flew with ID transponders belonging to Solarian Security Systems."

Pollux's lips twitched at the mention of Solarian's name, "Exactly what kind of prosecution are you seeking?"

"Disciplinary actions taken by the Iotian Starfleet would suffice as well as any clues as to how Iotian ships came by Solarian transponders." Macen replied, "I want to know who issued the orders leading to my people's deaths."

Pollux paused, "Send me your proof. I'll contact my superiors and get advice on how to proceed. In the meantime, if you could drop out of warp and proceed on impulse power, it would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course." Macen bowed his head, "Hannah, drop us to half impulse."

"Yes, sir." she reluctantly complied.

"T'Kir, ready with the data feed?"

"As soon as they are."

"Give `em what we've got." Macen ordered.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, the crew of the _Obsidian_ was still waiting on word from the _Enterprise_.

"Maybe if we lobbed a torpedo up their butt they'd get their asses in gear." T'Kir opined.

"It can't be easy to learn that some of your own were involved in something like this." Macen replied, "Give them time."

"Sure." T'Kir said warily, "What else have we got to give them?"

A telltale on T'Kir's board lit up, "Hey! Guess who's decided to signal?"

"Put it on the viewer." Macen maintained his composure despite his wife's ranting.

"Well Captain, what have you decided?" Macen asked.

Pollux frowned, "The engine signatures do match Starfleet vessels on file. I don't know who ordered their deployment into Federation territory or in strikes against your fellow vessels but my superior, Admiral Crist, wants to assist you in discovering the source of these attacks."

"That's a start." Macen grinned, "When do we begin?"

"I'm to escort you to Iotia." Pollux revealed, "Admiral Crist is tracking down the vessels that engaged in these attacks. Together we may root out who authorised the attacks themselves."

"Together?" Macen asked.

"I'm to assist you and act as your liaison with Admiral Crist. His office will be put at your disposal." Pollux explained, "Your reputation proceeds you, Captain Macen. You are known as a premier investigator. We wish to help in whatever way we can. The first step in that process is not impeding you, hence Admiral Crist's and my own involvement."

"Thank you." Macen replied.

"This matter must be settled." Pollux insisted, "The Iotian Federation's expansion is dependent on co-operation, not intimidation. We've tried that route. It doesn't achieve favourable results."

"We're ready to proceed when you are." Macen informed Pollux.

"Maintain warp 6 and follow us." Pollux instructed.

"You heard the man, Hannah." Macen said, "Set course and follow the _Enterprise _at warp 6."

The Iotian ship slipped into subspace followed closely by the Federation surveyor. When the transition was completed, Riker let out a slow sigh.

"Something up, Tom?" Macen asked.

"The original _Enterprise _was Jamie's ship."

"It hasn't been her ship for several years." Macen reminded him, "And it's practically a new ship now. This Captain Pollux is her master now."

"I know." Riker shook his head, "It's just a harsh reminder."

"Focus on the present Tom." Macen suggested, "You've got a good life here. Every day brings new beginnings. Let the past take care of itself."

"You're right." Riker sighed again, "It's just that every time I think I'm over it, something crops up to remind me of what I've lost."

"Tell me about it." Macen agreed.

"You've lost a planet, just about everyone you knew, fought in three wars and lost friends in each." Riker recited, "How do you keep a positive attitude?"

"Being crazy helps." Macen replied with a laugh.

"You're a little unstable but you're not crazy." Riker countered.

"You haven't read my last three Starfleet psych evals." Macen smiled, "I'm committable."

"Then why are you allowed to serve?" an alarmed Riker asked.

"I'm no longer in the uniform and my services are 'essential'." Macen revealed, "The things you'd rather not know about your CO, eh?"

"I've served with you. I don't always agree with you and I sometimes think you've gone too far but that doesn't mean I think you're crazy." Riker protested.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Macen replied.

"I wouldn't say it unless I believed it." Riker insisted.

"That's one of the things I appreciate about you Tom. You're forthright. I can depend on you for honesty." Macen confided.

Riker wore a wry expression, "Even if you ignore my advice?"

"At least its honest advice." Macen grinned.

"I hate to interrupt this mutual admiration society gents," T'Kir interjected, "But don't y'think we need a contingency plan for when we reach Iotia?"

"My Ready Room?" Macen asked.

"Sounds good." Riker agreed.

"T'Kir…"

"The bridge is _mine_!" T'Kir shouted, "Bwahahahaha!"

Macen looked over at Riker, "I think I've created a monster."

"You'll get no arguments from me."

"Hurry up and get of my bridge." T'Kir shushed them away, "Its time to start my reign. I'll call it my campaign of enlightenment. There'll be parties on every deck. Feasting and drinking `round the clock."

"Just keep us on course and avoid shooting the Iotians." Macen advised.

T'Kir jutted out her lower lip, "You're no fun."

"Keep up the good work." Macen smiled.

"Traitor." T'Kir pouted, "I'll rally the crew to my cause. Just wait and see."

Riker and Macen stepped into the Ready Room.

"Where do we begin?" Riker asked.

"First we start planning as though we're headed into a trap. Pollux admitted those ships were Iotian. Who's to say we aren't being led into a scenario where they can finish the job?" Macen offered.

"You have a deeply suspicious mind." Riker opined.

"It's kept me alive this long."

"May we all reach over four hundred years old." Riker wished.

"Stick with me and you might." Macen winked.

"So what other scenarios are we looking at?"

"We don't know how highly placed this Admiral Crist is." Macen said, "It could have been one of his superior officers that authorised the attacks."

"It could have been a subordinate." Riker countered.

"It could've been but it would require more people to cover it up." Macen theorised, "A flag officer makes sense since he or she could authorise the attacks and arrange the security surrounding the events."

"I hate to say it but it makes a perverse kind of sense." Riker admitted.

"That's our primary scenario…well, that and trap." Macen opined.

"Now to plan our contingencies." Riker said.

"If it's a trap, we call for the Romans and hope like hell we can stay alive long enough for them to arrive." Macen replied.

"And if it's a superior officer?"

"Then we see how much latitude Admiral Crist has in investigating this matter." Macen grinned.

Riker groaned, "Either way, we're in for trouble."

Macen rubbed his hands together, "Just like old times. Have faith Tom, we'll get through this the same way we've gotten through everything else."

"The ship's going to get blown up." Riker doomsayed.

"Don't be such a naysayer." Macen cajoled, "We don't lose a ship on _every _mission."

"Too many for my comfort." Riker complained.

"If this baby can survive the Omicron, she can survive anything." Macen remained upbeat.

"We've never taken on a dozen ships at once before." Riker pointed out, "If that happens, we have to be more than a little creative."

"We'll do fine." Macen assured him. There was a gleam in Macen's eyes that disturbed Riker. He reconsidered his opinion of Macen's sanity. Macen had the certainty of a madman or a Prophet. Whatever forces he was communing with, Riker wished he could have a taste of it to allay his fears.

"We'll be fine Tom." Macen repeated, "The probabilities aren't in flux. That means the Fates have already charted our course."

_Now_ Riker knew Macen was nuts but he'd seen Macen's mysticism pay off before. Most notably when he'd insisted Rab Daggit was still alive on Omicron and it turned out he was right. Perhaps he needed to heed Macen's words and extend a little faith to the problem. It couldn't hurt. The most that could happen is that he'd be disappointed.

Riker took a deep breath and committed himself, "We'll play it your way. I'll try faith on and see how it fits."

"Good for you." Macen beamed, "Now, if you could relieve T'Kir before she starts an interstellar incident and send her in here. You might want to call Lees to the bridge and have her run a few discreet scans on that Iotian starship. I want to see how she stacks up against her Federation counterpart."

"You've got it." Riker rose from his chair and exited the Ready Room. With T'Kir, Macen could plan the aspects of the actual investigation. He could also get a progress report on how Mudd had infiltrated their systems, synchronised the launch of Deck 4's lifepods and then overrode the shuttlebay controls. These events had been a blow to T'Kir's pride and he pitied the next person that attempted to repeat these manoeuvres.


	14. Chapter 14

215

It took the _Obsidian_ and the _Enterprise_ one hour and twenty-seven minutes to reach Iotia. There were only three other ships in the system. They consisted of two _Miranda_-class analogues and a _Mercury_-class ship type. The shipyards were full. Two _Constitution_-classes were being refitted into the _Enterprise_-class of ship. The other eight ships were new hulls of the _Miranda_-class type.

The Iotian Starfleet was still headquartered in the massive orbital complex that orbited Iotia. The _Enterprise_ slipped into a parking orbit around the station. The _Obsidian_ followed their example. The next move was the Iotians.

The crew didn't have long to wait. Fifteen minutes after their arrival, Admiral Crist's office contacted Macen. He was invited to beam over to the station with a small retinue. Twenty minutes later, Macen and T'Kir were in the transporter room.

Radil had accompanied them to protest Macen's decision to leave her behind, "This is foolish. You could be walking into a trap."

"Another gunhand won't make much of a difference, Jenrya." Macen replied, "We'll be fine."

"Relax." T'Kir chimed in, "We're big boys and girls. We can handle ourselves."

Radil muttered a particularly vile oath but she subsided, "Rab and I will be on ready alert. Give the word and we're there."

Macen grinned, "I never had a doubt. Hear that Telrik, keep a constant lock on us. If you can't beam us out, beam Daggit and Radil in."

"You've got it, sir." Telrik promised.

"In that case, energise." Macen ordered.

* * *

Macen and T'Kir materialised in another transporter room. Captain Pollux stood by the transporter controls. The first thing Macen noticed is that all of the Iotian personnel wore sidearms. That suited him fine. That would make them less likely to object to his and T'Kir's pistols.

Pollux seemed surprised by their attire. Macen wore his normal ensemble of black cargo pants and leather boots coupled with a long sleeved sage green Henley and his black leather flight jacket. T'Kir wore her black leather pants, calf high leather boots, black tank top and her black leather duster. Both wore their tactical holsters/utility belts as well.

"You come well armed." Pollux commented.

"One can never be too cautious." Macen retorted.

"Rightly so." Pollux nodded, "The Admiral will see you now."

Pollux led the couple through the warren that comprised the interior of the station. After several twists and turns and a ride on a turbolift, followed by more twists and turns, they arrived at an office. A yeoman in the office's reception area invited them to be seated. After announcing their presence to the Admiral, she took drink orders from everyone and bustled off to the nearest synthesiser.

Macen glanced about the small reception area. A small desk offset to one side dominated it. The door leading to Crist's office was situated to the side of the desk, the pair dominating one entire wall. One couch and three chairs lined two of the other walls. This left the wall leading to the desk's office space unencumbered.

Macen and T'Kir sat on the couch, which had the exit into the corridor alongside it. Pollux sat in on of the three chairs and was the first thing seen by visitors entering the office. The door to the inner office slid aside and Admiral Crist stood revealed.

If Crist were human he'd have been in his late fifties. The differences in Iotian and Terran aging rates were a mystery to Macen. He knew they were close so he assumed that unless Crist was like Macen's friend Elias Vaughn and over one hundred years old while appearing to be in his low sixties, which he severely doubted, and then Crist was exactly what he seemed.

Macen tasted the man's emotions even while T'Kir conducted a low level telepathic probe. After a moment, they both looked at each other and mentally exchanged notes. Macen found him to be sincere and very concerned over the allegations that Macen had levelled concerning the conduct of his service. T'Kir verified that and added that this wasn't the first charge of similar malfeasance. Crist had staked his professional reputation on tracking down the culprits responsible.

Unlike so many other native officials Outbound Ventures and the SID worked with, the Iotian Admiral was genuinely glad to see the privateers. It was the role of the privateer that the Iotians knew the team from and therefore they'd have to downplay their connection to Starfleet. It would be permissible to mention that Starfleet had authorised their inquiries into the suspected Iotian malfeasance but not to say that this investigation was, as of yet an official probe.

Crist stood in his office way and stared down at the privateer couple. He turned to Pollux and asked, "Where's Jenza?"

"She stepped out to get us all beverages." the Iotian Captain returned with immediately.

"The girl better bring me a fresh mug of _cafla_ or there'll be hell to pay." despite Crist's gruff manner, his eyes smiled.

Crist was several centimetres shorter than Macen and built like a squat wall. His muscular barrel chest and stomach showed none of the signs of aging that the rest of his body reflected. His thickly muscled legs and arms seemed ready to grab someone by the throat, which was the impression Macen was reading off of him. After a good throttling, Crist was fully prepared to kick the perpetrator of these crimes to death.

"I suppose you'd best follow me in into my office." Crist suggested, "Jenza can bring our refreshments in there.

Crist's closely cropped curls were predominantly grey. His eyes and forehead were deeply wrinkled. Here was a man who frequently worried but when he laughed, he treasured the moment. Cobalt blue eyes studied the troupe as they filed past him into his office.

The office was of equal size as the reception area but contained less furniture. Three chairs were seated in front of Crist's expansive desk. Whether this was just for this meeting or a regular practice, Macen didn't know. Part of him wanted to telepathically ask T'Kir to more deeply probe the Admiral's mind in order to learn the answer to that question but he let the matter go.

"So," Crist rumbled as he sat down, "you're the infamous Brin Macen."

"I'd like to know what I'm famous for." Macen retorted.

"You and your company have become well known among our trading partners." Crist explained, "Even the Ferengi are full of stories of your exploits."

"I'd trust a Ferengi about as far as I could bounce him." Macen remarked.

Crist broke into a feral grin, "That's how I derived my information."

The near truth of that statement was clearly evident to T'Kir's telepathy and Macen's empathy. It was a reminder of how ruthless Iotian society tended to be. They may have recently incorporated some of the ideals of the United Federation of Planets into their society but before that they had a century of a society modelled after the Chicago mobs of Earth's 1920s. The current Iotian generation was a bizarre fusion of the two extremes.

More to the point, Macen remembered that there was one Ferengi that he trusted. Quark may have been a profiteer but he dealt fairly with the Maquis. His merchandise had only been marginally overpriced. Quark had a conscience. He still had a profit driven mentality but he did have a strange code of honour. But that had nothing to do with the current conversation.

"I'm looking forward to your help with our investigations." Crist declared, "I'm assuming that this is an internal matter so that you're not being contracted by anyone else to investigate these attacks. I think I can find funds to help reimburse some of your expenses."

Macen neither confirmed or denied Crist's assumptions. T'Kir thoughtcast to him, _He wants our help bad. His investigation has ground to a halt and he's hoping we can crack the case._

Macen mentally nodded, _I can sense his desperation._ _I hope we can deliver._

"I'm hoping we can provide solid support as well." Macen manner grew fierce, "I _want_ the bastards behind these events."

"I have to confess that this is a pattern." Crist admitted wearily, "Over the last six months there have been three separate allegations of Iotian Starfleet vessels being involved in commerce raiding."

Crist's fist slammed his desk, "This _cannot _continue! We have worked too hard and staked too much of our federation's resources to providing security services to client planets. You are in a similar business. You understand my plight. As Chief of Starfleet Internal Affairs, it is my job to prevent such incidents and I will, by God I will."

"As I understand it, your Starfleet has been expanding the scope of its professional services." Macen said, "Much like my own Outbound Ventures."

"Indeed." Crist's resonant bass growled, "We've explored surveying ventures as well."

"You'll find those to be exceptionally profitable if you ask for a percentage of earnings gained by exploitation of natural resources or exclusive transportation contracts with potential colonists." Macen offered.

"We're exploring those very options." Crist grinned, "I can see that we will work well with one another."

"Where do we start?" Macen asked.

"I was hoping you would review several dead-ends we've encountered." Crist answered, "Starting with encrypted transmissions we've been unable to decipher."

T'Kir cracked her knuckles and broke into a cocky grin, "Bring `em on."

Crist slapped his desk and then rose, "I like your attitude. Use my terminal."

T'Kir and Crist exchanged places and she plunged into the computer system. She tapped away at its controls and then pulled out her microcomputer from her utility belt.

"Does this unit have a subspace transceiver?" T'Kir asked, her tone lacking its usual flippant sarcasm.

"No." Crist shook his head, "The transceiver array is tied into the network."

"What's your account logon code?"

"It's voice coded." Crist replied, "I'll authorise access at the appropriate juncture."

"All right." T'Kir nodded and activated her computer, "That'll work."

T'Kir manipulated her computer and within seconds it chimed, "Authorisation please."

"Authorise network access, code enable Crist-delta-niner-foxtrot."

"Yesss." a wide smile spread across T'Kir's face.

"Having fun?" Macen asked dryly.

"These duotronically based algorithms are sooo easy to hack it ain't funny." T'Kir remarked.

"Have you found the transmission intercepts?" Crist asked from the edge of his seat.

"Honey, I can hand you your entire network at this point." T'Kir exalted.

"Can you pull up the intercepts that IA has been investigating then?" Macen urged.

"Got `em." T'Kir's eyes narrowed, "These are _Ferengi _and _Orion_ codes!"

"Can you break them?" Crist asked.

"D'you honestly think they'll pose a problem?" T'Kir asked rhetorically.

"I honestly don't know." Crist admitted. T'Kir's eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed.

Macen nudged Crist as T'Kir attacked her computer, "Now you've done it."

"What have I done?" a bewildered Crist asked.

"She recently had several of her security protocols broken." Macen explained, "It's a matter of wounded pride and you've just issued a challenge."

"I didn't mean to offend you." Crist apologised.

"Too late, Muscles." T'Kir huffed, "The gauntlet's been thrown."

"Here we go." Macen remarked wryly.

T'Kir focus was entirely on her computer. It beeped and blurped while she hammered at its controls. Jenza brought in the requested beverages. Her look of shock at seeing the Vulcan behind her burly boss' desk was quickly replaced by practiced indifference.

The orders universally consisted of _cafla_, which was the local equivalent to coffee. It was sweeter than coffee with a milder taste. It possessed a rich fragrant odour and was surprisingly good in Macen's opinion.

"You should export this." he said to Crist.

The Admiral smiled, "We have a trade deal with Bolian distributors. They begin receiving roasted beans next week."

"I look forward to it." Macen assured Crist, "Although, is there any way to make the flavour stronger?"

"Get the darkest roasts." Crist revealed, "They are the most vibrant. Unfortunately, here at Command, we have to appeal to the broadest possible tastes so we procure the milder roasts."

"Aha!" T'Kir shouted so loud that Pollux started, "I've broken them."

"What are they?" Crist was utterly captivated.

"Transit and deployment orders." T'Kir replied as she transferred the decrypted files to Crist's terminal and swivelled it so that he and Macen could see the display, "Someone _has _been issuing orders to commence commerce raiding. The latest of these reports order the attacks on Outbound Ventures personnel."

"How many ships are involved?" Crist asked dismally.

"Twelve." T'Kir answered, "The orders have been issued to the same twelve ships every time."

"Can you provide me with a list of those ships?" Crist enquired.

"Already done." T'Kir said happily and a flimsy popped out of a printer.

"Why are they doing this?" Macen wondered, "What was the motivation behind these attacks?"

"It's mercenary work." T'Kir explained, "They're hiring out to an outside firm that wants to use the Iotian provocations to expand their own clientele."

"Solarian Security Systems." Macen growled.

"Got it in one." T'Kir replied and smiled brightly, "Looks and brains. Is it any wonder I love you?"

"Only to some." Macen quipped, "Although they usually ask why I love you."

T'Kir stuck her tongue out at him and then continued, "There's a signet that's attacked to every authorisation. I couldn't find it in any Starfleet database."

Crist's eyes narrowed in anger as he recognised the symbol, "It's the seal of the Hereditary President."

"Bella?" Macen asked in surprise, "I thought he didn't have any authority over the Starfleet."

"He didn't." Crist replied, "But the new President carries the rank of Grand Admiral."

"Oxmyx staged a coup?" Macen was stunned, "But why?"

"I never knew before today but I think it's clear that he's perfectly positioned himself to issue these orders." Crist turned to Macen, his eyes wild with fervour, "We have to arrest him!"

"Does your Starfleet have the authority to arrest a sitting President?" Macen wondered.

"He's still an Admiral of the Starfleet. That places him within my jurisdiction." Crist growled, "If he resists, I'll see his bones ground into powder."

"Calm down." Macen instructed, "Breathe. You need a plan. I'm assuming he has his own Presidential security force?"

"Yes." Crist was still fuming.

"Then perhaps I should contact Oxmyx's office and inform them I have a business deal in mind. I'm also assuming that the government is still involved in negotiations between business partners and takes a commission off the top."

"That's correct." Crist acknowledged, "But what good will these negotiations do?"

"I might be able to get Oxmyx to incriminate himself." Macen revealed, "It will also allow me to get people within the presidential…"

"Mansion." Crist supplied.

"…the presidential mansion and shut down the facility's security grid." Macen finished

"And then I beam down with an IA team and secure Oxmyx." Crist smiled in approval.

"Whoa!" T'Kir blurted out, "We just intercepted a new message. All of the suspect ships, except for the one we put in the repair yard, are being recalled to this system and to secure both it and the _Obsidian_."

"Do you wish to depart?" Crist asked, "If you meet with Oxmyx, you'll surely be stepping into a trap."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Macen replied with a grin, "Ever since the Federation's domestic crisis, Iotia's been a vital partner of the UFP. You supplied colony worlds with ships, protection, and munitions during the strife. Your security contracts protected the border worlds' commerce from piracy while the war played out."

"It was the best decision we ever made." Crist opined, "It opened the door to ongoing convoy protection contracts and trade relations with the UFP."

"The UFP's interests are well met by a stable Iotian Federation." Macen added, "It would behove all involved to resolve this situation."

"But what about the opposing ships?" Pollux asked.

"Captain, you're to rally the local defence picket and transmit an open SOS." Crist ordered.

"There are fourteen ships within a four hour response window." Pollux replied, "Does that give us enough time and resources?"

"Nine of those ships are those listed as the raiders." T'Kir said, reviewing the Iotian deployments, "Two more are six hours out."

"It's hopeless." Pollux grimaced.

"All we need to do is hold out for six hours." Macen informed them, "We have a contingency plan in case of this scenario."

"What kind of contingency?" Crist asked.

"A reserve force of ships." Macen answered, "Nova Roman ships."

"Romans." Crist muttered, "Why does it have to be Romans?"

"They were willing to help." Macen supplied.

"They want revenge for the reparations we made them pay." Crist snarled.

"They will if you provoke them." Macen warned, "You're also forgetting another asset in your possession. This station is a defensive position as well as the starships."

"But we don't know how many of the Command staff have been suborned to Oxmyx's scheme." Crist countered.

"You never will unless you put this station on alert under IA authority and arrest those that object." Macen detailed.

"We could also arrest innocent flag officers." Crist realised.

"You'll have to sort that out after you capture Oxmyx's databases." Macen outlined, "Securing the databases will be a secondary operation for my team. I want to know about Solarian's connection with the commerce raiders. I want the names of the Solarian contacts."

Your team won't live long enough to secure anything." Crist opined.

"You'd be amazed at what we can accomplish when we set our mind to it."

Macen grinned, "But first we need to return to our ship and set the wheels in motion."

"God help you." Crist rumbled.

"Thanks." Macen smiled, "The Fates have always been kind to us."

"Pollux, show them to the transporter room and then get to your ship." Crist ordered, "I'll arrange the rest from here."

"Good luck, Admiral." Macen shook Crist's hand, "May Fortune smile upon you."


	15. Chapter 15

231

The first thing Macen did upon coming aboard the _Obsidian_ was to signal the Nova Romans. The coded subspace pulse went out and the crew could only estimate that it would take two hours for the Romans to arrive. With the Star Legion's support, they merely had to survive the next six hours. No more Iotian raiders should be arriving after that time.

Of course, having the Roman's numerical advantage on their side was sure to help the Iotian system's defender's plight. Scipio had brought six _Banner_-class vessels and six _Eagle_-class scouts. Although individually the scouts were no match for an Iotian starship, they could work in groups. The _Enterprise_ and her brethren would bolster the Roman squadron's numbers. The _Obsidian_ would be held in ready reserve, strategically intervening when a Roman/Iotian was in danger of being overwhelmed.

Macen outlined this plan to Riker in the Ready Room and the XO concurred, "Good plan. There's no need to waste our superior firepower in a general skirmish. We should tip the balance when needed."

"You'll have to have Shannon at Tactical." Macen informed Riker next, "I'm taking a team with me to the surface."

"Is that wise?" Riker asked, "You're beaming down at the advent of a hostile action."

"More precisely, we're beaming down into the clutches of the person responsible for the attacks on our company." Macen revealed.

"Send me instead!" Riker demanded.

Macen shook his head, "I'm the Mission Commander and leader of the Investigative Team. You're the Starship's Operations Specialist. Your experience is with starships not with surface operations. The Iotian IA is providing us with support. We should be fine."

"You're nuts, you know that?" Riker asked.

"All the experts agree with you." Macen returned with a manic grin.

Riker shook his head, "Talking with you is hopeless at times."

"Only when I'm right." Macen remarked.

"When you _think _you're right." Riker asserted.

Macen shrugged, "That's all that anyone does until the Fates put their assumptions to the test."

Riker sighed, "I'm not going to talk you out of this am I?"

"Sorry, Tom." Macen said with genuine regret, "The Iotians are counting on us. I have to call Oxmyx's office now and arrange for a 'business negotiation'."

"And he'll take you prisoner." Riker replied grimly, "So what happens after that?"

Macen sketched out his basic plan for Riker and the XO whistled, "Ballsy. Stupid but ballsy."

Macen grinned, "We do what we can."

Riker nodded, "I'll step out and let you make that call."

"Thanks Tom." Macen activated the comm unit mounted atop his desk. He tried a general hail to the President's office using the comm protocols given to him by Pollux. The pattern was SOP for the Iotians. The Starfleet intercepted unknown inbound traffic and then interrogated them as to their purpose back at Command. Traders were then handed off to the President's office to mediate trade negotiations with local businesses.

It was a system that was efficient enough and generated enough profit for all involved to be allowed to remain unaltered. Macen worked his way up through several functionaries before meeting a direct representative from Oxmyx.

"Captain," the trade representative said in an oily tone, "sooo good to make your acquaintance. I've heard sooo much about you."

"Do you have a speech impediment I should know about?" Macen asked, eyeing the rep dubiously.

"Nooo." the rep smiled, showing off a donkey-like array of teeth, "Sooo kind of you to ask though."

Macen sighed, "I'm I going to get a meeting with your office or not?"

"We'll transmit the coordinates of a location you can transport down to." the rep said ingratiatingly, "You can't beam directly to the Presidential Mansion but we'll have an escort standing by."

"I'm sure you will." Macen replied cynically, "Good bye."

"Sooo good making you…" Macen terminated the transmission before the rep could finish.

* * *

He exited the Ready Room to find Daggit handing over the Tactical station to Forger, "I take it you already know about the mission."

Daggit nodded, "T'Kir told me."

Macen eyed his wife. She was leaning over the shoulder of her relief at OPS. She smiled and shrugged.

"Seemed the easiest approach to the situation." she said, "I've already alerted Radil, Parva and Kort as well. They're in the armoury gearing up."

"And I'm on my way to join them." Daggit said and he entered the turbolift and was whisked away.

"Good job." Macen smiled at T'Kir.

"You too!" she said brightly.

"For what?" Macen crossed his arms and wore a bemused smirk.

"For…recognising my brilliance in taking preemptive action." she concluded with a firm nod of her head.

Macen laughed, "Okay, I'll give you that."

T'Kir curtsied then asked, "Shouldn't we be joining the children?"

"Seems prudent." Macen nodded, "Did a set of coordinates get transmitted here?"

"Yup." T'Kir confirmed, "They our landing spot?"

"Yup." Macen replied.

"That where they're gonna ambush us?" she wondered.

"Probably." Macen answered as they stepped into the turbolift.

"Fun." T'Kir was heard to say as the doors closed.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the mission team was assembled in the Main Transporter Room. Kort and Parva brandished phaser pistols and rifles in addition to Kort's edged weaponry. Radil wore her portable phaser cannon and a phaser pistol auxiliary. Daggit wore his shoulder holstered phaser pistols and his grenade launcher strapped to his right leg. Macen and T'Kir contented themselves with their pistols.

"All right, let's get this show underway." Macen remarked and everyone moved onto transporter pads.

"Good luck." Telrik grunted.

"Much appreciated." Macen smiled, "Take care, Telrik. Energise."

The six mission team members faded from existence and Telrik confirmed that they'd rematerialised on the ground and then he grunted again, "All I can do."

The Tellarite moved over to a chair alongside the control console and pulled a padd out of his pocket. Yesterday he'd reached Chapter 35 in the novel he was reading and things were just getting interesting. The damsel was in distress and as was common in Tellarite thrillers, the hero was currently sitting down to a large meal and a mud bath before taking action. The description of the delicacies made Telrik's mouth water. He had leave coming, maybe he'd spend it on Tellar.

* * *

The team rematerialised at an Iotian street corner. Seven Presidential guardsmen stood in a circle wielding phaser pistols. They wore maroon and black uniforms similar to the current Starfleet uniform. Instead of the Starfleet symbol, the guardsmen's uniform bore an intricate interlaced set of spirals.

"President Oxmyx sends his regards." one of the guardsmen sneered and raised his pistol.

Kort, who was holding his _bat'leth _in a two handed grip leapt forward and swung his blade, slicing an Iotian's throat. Radil pivoted her phaser cannon and fired. Another Iotian fell, this one with a gaping hole in his chest. Daggit drew his phasers almost faster than could be tracked by the humanoid eye and he killed the closest two guardsmen. Parva turned and fired her rifle from the hip, cutting into the chest of the Iotian next to her. Macen and T'Kir took advantage of the confusion to draw their weapons and dispatch the remaining Iotians.

"I'll say this for this Oxmyx, he's right neighbourly." T'Kir quipped.

"We expected no less." Macen remarked.

"Yah, but it still sucks." T'Kir returned.

Macen shook his head while wearing a wry grin. His wife's mastery of slang through the ages continued to amaze him. T'Kir knew the vernacular of dozens of worlds but specialised in human expressions. Her unremitting telepathic probes of the Maquis colonists had also yielded a rich heritage of swear words and other vile oaths.

"Can you get a bearing fix?" Macen asked T'Kir.

She holstered her pistol and pulled her tricorder from her utility belt and pointed down a street to the group's right, "Thattaway."

T'Kir returned the tricorder to her belt and pulled her phaser free of its holster. Kort slung the _bat'leth _across his back and unslung his rifle. Everyone else kept their weapons at the ready.

* * *

One of the first things Parva had done after coming aboard the team was modify Radil's phaser cannon. It now had a handle and trigger located where Radil could grab it just by bending her elbow. With carefully balanced weights combined with the waist pivot point, Radil could easily elevate and decline the cannon. It improved the ergonomics and the ease of use had increased a hundred fold.

Parva had also modified the surplus Bajoran Militia phaser rifles so that they were now pulse weapons. The phaser pistols were left untouched except for adding targeting devices to Daggit's. Used in combination with sensor glasses, Daggit's phasers would display a targeting dot on whatever the phaser was aimed at. Also displayed were pertinent sensor facts that the targeting system detected. It was a smaller version of what Radil had on her cannon. The rifles now came equipped with the sensor arrays and they were an option on the pistols.

Parva had received the accolades of her peers for her tinkering. Daggit had shown the extent of his appreciation in a more intimate setting. Parva had never felt comfortable replacing Hal Dracas on the team. Substituting for the Troglyte had seemed innocuous enough. Filling his boots full time had seemed a daunting proposition.

Parva's barely settled doubts as to her actual place within the framework of the team had been ripped wide open by Dracas' death. Daggit had spent the previous night trying to reassure the otherwise fierce Orion that her position was assured. She'd seen Joachim Dracas' arrival in Engineering as a preemptive move to oust her out of the Chief Engineer's role. Daggit had had to call Macen and have the Captain intervene.

After a twenty-minute conversation between Macen and Parva she seemed much calmer and confident. Macen had explained that Dracas' scores on a Starfleet qualification exam had been off the charts. Engineering was literally in his blood. Macen wanted to harness that potential and make Dracas the Assistant Chief Engineer. Gilan would remain Engineering 2nd and Dracas would essentially become the XO of the engineering department.

This information went a long way to settling Parva's mind. She was slightly disturbed by the prospect of leaving Dracas behind in her engine room while she gallivanted about on the planet's surface but she'd learned a long time ago not to argue with Macen over his orders. Point in fact, Parva had to admit that she, the great decrier of persons small and large, respected Macen. That realisation had struck her prior to the crisis and his actions in the war had only made her proud to serve under him. Although, she swore to herself that next time she wouldn't be sidelined.

* * *

"All right people," Macen interrupted all trains of thought, "let's move out and stay sharp. I'm sure that this was just the opening gambit."

"What else is new?" Parva asked.

"Should have been with us that time on Farris Prime." Daggit remarked, "This is absolutely pleasant compared to that."

"Are you still complaining about Farris Prime?" Macen called back over his shoulder.

The group moved out with Macen and T'Kir in the lead. Macen took the right, T'Kir the left. Behind Macen was Kort. Behind Kort was Parva. Beside Parva walked Daggit. Radil was between T'Kir's back and Daggit.

They walked down six blocks without incident. Then a high-pitched scraping sound came at them from both ends of the street. T'Kir pointed up in the sky. An aircar on a high speed interception course was approaching. Daggit alerted them that another was approaching from their rear.

Macen ordered them to seek cover. They did the best that they could, hiding behind parked cars and the small terrace fences of the surrounding buildings. Radil and Daggit stood their ground. Daggit holstered his phaser, pulled his grenade launcher free, pumped it and waited.

The headlong car was beginning its dive now. Radil turned towards it and adjusted the aim of her cannon. As the car slowed to allow its passengers to lean out of the windows while brandishing weapons, Radil opened fire. She scored half a dozen direct hits and the engine exploded. The chassis was engulfed in flame and skidded down the paved street, twisting and turning.

Radil crouched to one knee as the next car passed and Daggit calmly stood as a torrent of phaser fire flashed by. He turned and fired a grenade into the rear compartment of the aircar and the engine detonated. It still had some life in it though and it struggled to keep the car aloft. The car could easily be seen sailing down between the buildings until it reached the large open space beyond the last building.

This was the estate of the Presidential Mansion. A forcefield covering the length and breadth of the estate flared to life as the car struck it. The car exploded as it met resistance and its engine could endure no more stress.

* * *

"That's how far we still have to go." Macen said as the team reassembled on the sidewalk.

"You take me to the most romantic places." T'Kir quipped, "Reminds me of the night we spent on Cistrum II."

"What is this? Stroll down bad memory lane night?" Macen retorted.

"It's only the local afternoon." Radil chimed in.

Macen pointed a warning finger at Radil, "Don't you start being a comedian too, Jenrya."

They travelled for another eight blocks before T'Kir abruptly stopped. Her brow furrowed and her eyes began searching the surrounding buildings on both sides of the street. She started to relax and then she went taut.

"Now!" T'Kir shouted and began firing at the doors up the street and began sweeping to her left. Gunmen emerged from the building fronts in time for T'Kir to shoot them. Macen copied her, sweeping the right side of the street. Kort and Radil also swept their respective sides of the street. Daggit and Parva neutralised the threats to the group's rear and then began dealing with snipers on the tenement roofs.

Within minutes, the SID Investigative Team had killed two dozen men and women. As the dust settled and the screaming stopped, Macen surveyed the scene.

"Oxmyx is stating to piss me off." Macen ground out between clenched teeth.

"Technically he's been pissing you off ever since he signed the order for Iotian ships to attack Outbound Ventures ships and sites." T'Kir corrected.

Macen shot her a warning glare and T'Kir raised her hands in surrender, "Okay. I won't try and cheer you up."

Macen's expression softened, "Sorry."

"We have a plan?" T'Kir asked and everyone's attention galvanised.

"We do." Macen replied and he began to outline his ideas.

* * *

"Four Iotian type starships are entering the system." Danan reported from Ops, having relieved the relief officer, "The station is activating its screens and powering up weapons emplacements."

"I guess that answers the question of the station personnel's ultimate loyalty." Riker mused, stroking his beard.

"You might say that." Danan observed dryly.

"Watch the mouth, Danan." Riker teased, "I don't need insubordination on my bridge."

"Puh-lease." Grace gagged, "Why don't you two just go back to your quarters?"

Danan coloured slightly and Riker leaned forward, "What makes you say that, Hannah?"

Grace turned to face him, did an exaggerated eye roll, and returned her focus to her board. Riker straightened up in his seat and tugged at his jumpsuit. The waist had started to tighten up. He needed less food and more time in the gym.

_The price of getting older, _an internal voice taunted Riker, _Can't run away from aging forever._

_I can stave it off with willpower._ Riker mentally declared. Even as he thought it he recalled the wedding photos his twin had sent him. _Will _Riker had definitely been enjoying the good life. Tom was thinner due to the privations he'd endured over the years but he was starting to catch up with his "brother".

Riker mentally vowed to exercise more and eat better but even as he made the commitment he knew it rang false. His current regiment kept him in good shape for his age and that was the problem. He was getting…_old_. He'd never imagined that this day would come.

Riker suddenly felt hollow inside. He glanced back towards Danan and suddenly wondered what she saw in him. They were only ten years apart in age but that seemed like an unbridgeable gulf now. Danan turned, almost presciently, and gave him a warm smile.

He felt reassured and his inner doubts were put at bay for a moment. Riker shook his head. He was heading into multi-ship engagement and he needed focus. He forced his mind to be clear and changed his approach to the situation.

"Shannon, what ship types are sailing in?" Riker asked the 2nd Officer manning Tactical.

"Three _Constitution_ analogues and a _Mercury_-class starship." Forger replied, "They're approaching from four different directions. The _Enterprise _and her siblings are setting up intercepts of the three _Constitution_-class ships and leaving the _Mercury _to the mercies of the station…and us."

"Hannah, set up an intercept of the _Mercury_-class ship." Riker ordered, "Shannon, begin a targeting track. Focus on using the phasers as your primary weapon. I'd like to save the photons for later."

"May I remind the _Commander_ that both he and the Captain agreed in holding this starship in reserve." Grace said defiantly.

"That ship will double team one of our allies. It'll probably be the _Enterprise_. We can't afford to lose her. She's vital to our defence." Riker explained.

Grace grinned, "And the best defence is a rippin' offence."

"Sure." Riker faltered, nearly positive that he'd caught her meaning. Her close association with T'Kir constantly yielded unexpected results.

"Set up that intercept course and then engage at maximum impulse." Riker commanded.

"Aye, aye air." Grace quipped.

"Don't be snarky." Riker returned, "Just comply."

The view on the screen suddenly began to shift as Grace manoeuvred away from the station, around Iotia and then off towards the void. The _Mercury _was approaching from "above" the orbital tracks of the solar system. That was good since it meant there were no planets to interfere with combat operations. It also meant that there were no planets to retreat to or asteroid fields to use as a hiding place.

As the _Obsidian _sailed closer to the _Mercury_-class starship, Grace blinked. When she opened her eyes, her rich brown eyes were keen with razor sharp alertness. She brushed an errant strand of her honey blonde hair back into place behind her ear. Although her hair was pulled back, it wasn't braided and therefore had a tendency to escape the restraining scrunchie.

It was an exasperating thing during combat. Grace once again considered cutting her shoulder length hair. The problem was that she typified the ideal woman for many human males and she found that to be intoxicating. Her "look" worked to her advantage and she wanted to retain that edge. Once again she shelved the haircutting notion.

"Bring us in close." Riker said, "I want them to be able to read our registry numbers out their portholes."

Grace nudged the ship a few thousand kilometres closer. If the Iotian ship didn't change course then the Federation starship would pass within one thousand metres of her foe. Grace carefully watched the enemy starship for any sign of veering towards them. Quite the opposite occurred. The _Mercury_ began firing her manoeuvring thrusters in a desperate, last minute effort to evade the close quarters intercept.

"Stand by phasers." Riker ordered.

Automatic proximity and collision alarms sounded and the _Obsidian_ began her pass. Riker stood up and yelled, "Fire!"

The shields of the _Mercury_ flared to life as phaser fire lanced out and struck the saucer section. They survived the initial assault but the sustained bursts soon overloaded the shield generators. The Federation starship raked the entire engineering hull of the Iotian ship. The Iotians had been damaged but they still retained auxiliary power.

Grace flipped the surveyor over and then proceeded at maximum impulse for another pass along the Mercury's wounded side. Forger opened fire as soon as the Iotian ship came into range. The phasers sliced through the hull all the way to the saucer section. The saucer's shields wavered but stayed functional. The Iotian ship shut down her impulse engines and began to drift.

Grace flipped the ship once again and brought the _Obsidian_ squarely into a face off with the _Mercury_-class light cruiser. The move was a gamble on Riker's part. If the Iotian ship still retained the capacity, she would drain her phaser banks in one final, defiant volley. Although the Federation ship's shields could theoretically shrug off such a blow, there would still be multiple overloads across the ship.

After waiting for several minutes for a reaction from the Iotians, they finally got one when Danan announced, "They're hailing us."

"Put it on screen." Riker straightened his jumpsuit.

The screen shifted to a scene from the bridge of the stricken Iotian Starfleet vessel. The air was smoky and medical personnel could be seen treating casualties in the rear of the bridge. The ship's CO stood up from the centre seat. He was dishevelled and unsteady. Riker had no pity for him.

"Please stop." the Iotian captain pleaded, "We're done in. We surrender. For the love of God stop."

Riker's eyes narrowed, "Did you listen to the pleas of your victims? Did you stop when they begged for mercy?"

The Iotian quailed, "It was a job. We were paid to attack your associates. It wasn't personal."

"Neither is this." Riker said, "Shannon, fire a torpedo at their bridge."

"Sir?" Forger hesitated.

"Tom!" Danan yelled, "This is exactly the sort of stunt that you'd fight to prevent Brin from doing."

Riker shook his head, "You're right." He turned to face the screen, "You've been spared by the good graces of my crew. Don't test my generosity any further. You're to abandon your ship and await rescue in your ship's escape pods. If you signal incoming raiders, we'll destroy you. If you scuttle your ship, we'll destroy you. If you destroy the ship's computer core, we'll destroy you. Are these conditions clear?"

The Iotian commander numbly nodded and Riker broke into a thin smile, "Good. You have your orders. I suggest you hurry and carry them out."

The screen returned to its depiction of the front of the _Mercury_. Riker turned to face Danan.

"Lees, lock onto their computer and start downloading its contents." Riker directed.

"I'm not T'Kir." Danan replied, "I'm computer savvy but I'm not a cyber witch like she is. I'll just upload the whole thing and let her sort it out."

"Do we have the capacity to do that?" Riker asked with some surprise.

"Sure." Danan breezed the question aside, "Modern starships only use a fraction of their computing power and memory capacity. We'll have room for this one and a few more besides."

"That's what I'm counting on." Riker grinned.

.


	16. Chapter 16

245

The Investigative Team travelled the last five blocks to the outer gates of the Presidential Mansion unmolested. The gate, like the road that led to it, was designed to service ground transports. It was the Bella estate and had been in the family for over a century. It had taken Oxmyx one bloody night to alter history.

Oxmyx's estate had been similarly equipped during his family's reign as Planetary President. How he had coveted Bella's mansion once it was augmented. The Iotian Starfleet stood guard over the High Admiral's residence but it wasn't the same as having your own forcefield and personal retainers guarding your person. Now he had the best of all worlds, associates in Starfleet watched his backside and carried out missions on his behalf. The Presidential Guardsmen devotedly guarded his person, having been recruited from the very apple of the Starfleet Security Corps.

The main gate into the Bella estate was made of wrought iron. It was two halves set on hinges and locked when the two sides met. The stylised square that contained the locking mechanism bore the image of a basilisk wrapped around a world. It reminded Macen of the Norse myth of the Midgard serpent.

Presidential Guardsmen rushed out to the centre of the gate. One of them released the manual lock and then grabbed on to the gate to swing it open. Another guardsman did the same for the opposite side. The remaining sentries raised their phasers and aimed them at the SID team.

"This is gettin' old." T'Kir groused, "Lemme even the odds."

Macen gave her a dark look, "I thought your powers were curtailed."

T'Kir shrugged, "They are. I bet I could still fry one of `em. You never know until ya try."

Knowing of her predilection for psychic violence, Macen opted to keep that particular beast caged, "Let's not find out."

T'Kir jutted out her lower lip, "You're no fun."

"Deal with it." Macen retorted, worried that she might be building a resistance to her medication.

Meanwhile, the guardsmen, who were not used to being ignored, were becoming agitated, "Look here, you lot, step over here and surrender your weapons."

Macen averted his gaze and stared straight into the speaker's eyes, "And if we refuse?"

Macen's calm manner destabilised the guardsman even more. He was used to people cowering in fear before him, either as a Starfleet Security lieutenant or as a Presidential Guardsman. Neither Macen nor his party were showing the slightest trace of dread at the sight of eight guardsmen training weapons on them.

Macen looked back at his forces and nodded. He stepped forward and handed over Laren. His naming the weapon after Ro hadn't offended T'Kir. Quite the opposite, T'Kir found this human-like trait to be hilarious.

T'Kir harboured no illusions regarding Macen's faithfulness. She knew Macen and she knew Ro. Her telepathy voided the secrecy and lies necessary to plan and conduct adultery. Although Macen could block T'Kir's telepathy he chose not to. Transparency was a vital part of a marriage and a telepathic rapport insured that both partners remained honest with one another.

That didn't mean they didn't fight. The entire ship was put on alert when they fought. They fought over little things and ordinary details. The emotional and sensitive matters were immediately resolved. T'Kir's dress code or Macen's insistence on leading the charge were matters that were still in dispute. They had dozens of things to fight over and when they did they did so with a vengeance. Nothing was as volatile as a passionate Vulcan. Macen had come to appreciate Surak and the practice of _kohlinar_. The last thing the galaxy needed was a planet full of hotheads running amuck.

T'Kir followed Macen's example put she slapped the phaser down in the man's hands so hard it nearly took his arm out of socket. There were advantages to coming from a higher grav world. For all of T'Kir's vaunted strength, she was a weakling compared to Parva's Orion bred muscles.

The others all followed along. Kort growled from deep in his throat as he handed over his _bat'leth_ and the Iotians collecting the weapons quailed. Radil retained her cannon but the Iotians removed the battery from its harness. Three guardsmen bore the SID team's weapons and four more escorted the six team members.

Having stripped the Investigative Team of its weaponry, the officer in charge of the Presidential unit grew cocky, "Stupid Feds. Always coming here and mucking about in our business."

"First off, we don't represent the Federation." Macen corrected, "Secondly, the last Federation mission to Iotia was a year ago. Since then various Federation members, but not the central government itself, have contacted you. Third, your business is so mucked up already you don't need any help _frinxing _it up any further."

"A regular smartass, eh?" the officer asked in accusation. He threw a left hook at Macen. The El-Aurian neatly sidestepped the blow. The officer followed with a right cross. Macen took hold of his arm at the wrist and bent it inward. He then twisted, locking the elbow, stuck out his right foot and pivoted, throwing the man to the ground.

Several guardsmen snickered as the officer regained his feet, "What are you lot looking at? Resume the march!" He leaned in close to Macen before they resumed their procession, "I'll deal with you yet."

"Should be interesting." Macen responded with a lopsided grin.

"Just you wait and see." the officer promised maliciously.

* * *

Aboard the _Obsidian_, Danan completed uploading the Iotian database, "Got it!"

"Good work, Lees." Riker congratulated, "When can you have a synopsis of what it says?"

"Try six to eight hours." Danan answered.

"That long?" he wondered.

"I'm not T'Kir." Danan planted her fists on her hips, "My search programs aren't as precise as hers."

"Do what you can." Riker urged, "As fast as you can."

"Don't rush me." Danan growled, "You rush a programmer and you get a lousy program."

"What is it about that station?" Riker asked no one in particular, "She's been there for forty-five minutes and she's already acting like T'Kir?"

"First lover's spat?" Grace wore a wicked smile.

"Just back us away from the _Mercury_-class ship." Riker ordered, "I want to be free and clear to navigate in ten minutes or less."

"She has a name, y'know." Grace remarked, "It's right there, splashed across her hull. She's the _ISS Vice_. Accept no substitutes."

"We _have _to get that Vulcan off of this ship." Riker groaned. Grace's grin turned victorious and she began activating the manoeuvring thrusters and guiding the ship away from the stricken _Vice_.

* * *

In the lower decks, specifically the Security Office, Abigail Collins sat studying the ship's internal sensors. No boarders had attempted to come aboard during their last engagement. She didn't put a last ditch effort past the enemy and kept her Security force on alert.

Collins looked up and saw Harkins, a recently hired cargo handler, approaching. His hands were clasped behind his back. It wasn't a normal mannerism for him but the cargo and shuttlebay crews had little to do right now. A bad case of nerves could easily be developing.

Harkins stopped at the office door and leaned in, "Howdy."

"Hi yourself." Collins replied. She didn't know Harkins well but he was cute. She was distracted enough that it took her a full minute to realise his comm badge was missing.

"What happened to your…" Collins managed to get out before Harkins swung his left hand around and stunned her and her fellow Security officer manning the office. Harkins reached into his waistband and removed an old flip style communicator. He flipped it open and spoke.

"Harkins to demo team. Converge on the armoury and prepare for Operation Spinal Chord."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, six other men had gathered near the Security Office. Collins and Holvreet, the other stunned officer, were stripped of weapons and comm gear. They were moved to the brig and placed in a cell. They used the Office's access control to open the armoury. The conspirators stunned the two Security personnel stationed within and moved and equipped everyone with a phaser and a pulse rifle.

Harkins remained in the Security Office and activated its link to the rest of the Security detail, "This is Peter Harkins. Can anyone read me? There's been an accident at the Security Office, a weapons malfunction of sorts. We need help!"

Harkins aimed his phaser at the primary control board and fired. Sparks and smoke issued forth as the ODN lines blew. The Office was now isolated from the rest of the ship.

"Come on now!" Harkins shouted out to his remaining associates, "Carry those two into the brig. Place them with the other two."

Harkins and his compatriots were among the latest inductees into the ship's service. They were all Solarian Security Services employees and had been selected by Solarian's Special Branch to infiltrate and sabotage the _Obsidian_ at an opportune moment. Harkins could think of no better opportunity to seize control of the ship and disable her then when she would soon face Iotian Starfleet vessels in Solarian's employ. Harkin's team would transmit a preselected code and the Iotians would board the Outbound Ventures ship and take the crew prisoner.

Harkins supposed the crew would subsequently "disappear" but that was no concern of his. Disposing of the rest of the Security team was. Harkins assembled his men and women in a huddle outside of the office and waited. Soon the Security force began arriving by twos.

They rushed in and were ambushed by the Solarian agents. The three cells of the brig were soon crammed full of stunned Security officers. Harkins' lieutenant in this operation, Sheila Peterson, approached for a quiet word, "You've blown the security controls. How can we deploy the anaesthesine gas?"

"We don't." Harkins replied, "We take the bridge, Engineering and Sickbay by force. The only armed personnel on this boat besides us are the SID team members on the bridge."

"Are you certain you can neutralise them?" Peterson asked.

"I'll personally lead that team. You'll take Engineering with Hamish and Trevloi at your side. Red Wolf will guard the brig and McCormick will secure Sickbay."

"Why are we taking Sickbay?" Peterson enquired, "It's manned by the EMH."

"The EMH is the physician on call but the medtechs on duty could run amuck and revive stunned personnel." Harkins explained.

"Why are we stunning them?" Peterson wondered, "Wouldn't it be easier to simply execute them?"

"Our superiors and our employer want them alive to undergo the Iotians' tender mercies as they're interrogated." Harkins answered.

"Poor bastards." Peterson shook her head, "It'd be better to kill them now."

"That's not for us to decide." Harkins said, "Operations has decided that the senior staff possesses invaluable information that must be extracted. We're not equipped to accomplish that so that leaves the Iotians."

"What about the rumour that these Nova Romans will ride to the crew's assistance?"

"From what little I've heard, they're primitives." Harkins sneered, "Their tech base is even more rudimentary than the Iotians'."

"They could still complicate matters if they arrive." Peterson warned.

"We'll have control of the most powerful ship in the system." Harkins deflected her concerns, "This ship is insignificant in the greater Alpha Quadrant but here, it's a juggernaut."

"I hope you're right." Peterson remarked.

"Trust me, Sheila. When have I ever let an op go south?"

"There's always a first time, Peter." Peterson was in a dark mood now.

"Take Hamish and Trevloi and scoot along to Engineering." Harkins ordered, "That's a good girl."

Peterson responded with a rude gesture but she collected her team and went her way.

"Smythe, you're with me." Harkins directed, "Red Dog, man the brig. McCormick, Sickbay is yours."

McCormick wore a lascivious grin as he acknowledged his orders, "Righty Oh."

"I know that look McCormick." Harkins growled, "Keep it in your pants."

"You know I will." McCormick promised and disappeared.

"I don't trust that man." Harkins complained.

"Special Branch selected him so he must be competent." Smythe asserted.

"Special Branch has been known to use thugs in the past. I just hope that sadist doesn't end up raping someone." Harkins remarked in disgust.

"Are we headed for the bridge?" Smythe asked.

"Indeed." Harkins nodded, "Hold the fort, Lance."

Red Dog nodded in return, "They'll have to kill me to get past me."

Harkins knew Red Dog was wearing an experimental civilian version of the new ablative body armour used by Starfleet. He could shrug off several particle blasts before the armour failed. That would unsettle the enemy and give the Native American time to incapacitate his opponents.

"Let's go." Harkins said and Smythe followed as the Solarian team leader led the way to the lift.

* * *

The Presidential Guardsmen detail led their prisoners through the mansion. They entered through a service entrance to the side of the sprawling complex. The entrance led to a bland corridor filled with other Presidential Guardsmen. The others stood by as the captive SID team paraded past. Macen and the others remained silent as they were herded into an elevator large enough to accommodate everyone.

The service lift descended. It opened to reveal a sprawling underground complex. The guardsmen nudged the Outbound Ventures officers forward. Macen, T'Kir and the others resumed following the weapons bearers while being herded by the guardsmen.

While the team marched towards their final destination, Daggit, Radil, Kort and Parva began looking around in confusion. After a moment, understanding cleared their expressions and they all settled down.

The Iotian guardsmen took the prisoners down a corridor adjacent to a large, open office area filled with staffers. The corridor led to a large private office. It was opulent, filled with lush furniture and exquisite rugs and tapestries. This was the auxiliary Presidential Office, used when the mansion was under siege.

The three weapons bearers entered first and deposited the team's weapons upon Oxmyx's expansive desk. They departed. Macen and T'Kir were escorted into the office by two of the remaining guards. The other four SID teammates remained outside with the other two guards.

"So," Oxmyx folded his arms and sneered, "these are the mighty Fed assassins."

"What makes you think that we're assassins?" Macen asked.

"You're here aren't you?" Oxmyx demanded, "If you wanted to do anything but kill me you'd have run after killing my hit teams."

"We have a different goal." Macen informed Oxmyx, "We want to see you taken alive to stand trial so killing you isn't an option."

"So you say now." Oxmyx laughed harshly, "My boys have you disarmed and surrounded."

"No, they don't." Macen remarked and simply said, "Now!"

The guards standing beside him and T'Kir stiffened and allowed the couple to smash their elbows into their noses. The guards went down on their knees. Outside the office, Daggit and Parva had already disarmed the guards and rendered them unconscious.

Oxmyx grabbed one of the team's Bajoran phaser pistols, took aim and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

"Learn to work the safety catch dumbass!" T'Kir snarled and her left foot smashed into the man's testicles. Oxmyx dropped the phaser, clutched his groin and collapsed. He turned purple and quit breathing.

"Kort!" Macen shouted, "Check Oxmyx out."

Kort moved into the office and retrieved his medical kit from the desk. He flipped open his medical tricorder and began his sweeping scan of Oxmyx's fallen form. Closing his tricorder, he removed a hypospray from his get and put one ampoule in. He pressed it up against Oxmyx's vein in his neck and depressed the trigger. It injected with a hiss. He loaded another ampoule, set the dosage and repeated the procedure.

As Oxmyx's colour and breathing normalised Kort stood and grinned at Macen, "A ruptured testicle. Nothing life threatening now that I've treated the shock. He should remain immobilised until the analgesic wears off. Pain should keep him here after that."

Macen returned Laren to her holster and scowled at T'Kir, who was returning her phaser to its holster. Daggit, Radil and Parva crowded around the table. They all retrieved their weapons. Daggit replaced Radil's battery pack and she reactivated the cannon.

Oxmyx struggled to curse them but all that flew from his mouth was spittle. His face was covered in his own saliva. Raw hatred radiated from his eyes. His hands twitched and trembled but were unable to move from his groin.

"Are you sure you don't want me to finish him off?" Daggit asked Macen.

Macen had years of experience dealing with Daggit's preconditioned 'Soldier' mode and dismissed the idea, "Sorry, Rab, we need him alive to turn over to Admiral Crist. A lesson in accountability must be made."

T'Kir sat down behind the desk and fired up the computer atop its polished surface, "Oh, Admiral, don't think about your clearance code." She brightened and broke into a radiant smile with dimples showing, "Thank you."

She got busy hooking her microcomputer up to the Iotian terminal and punched in Oxmyx's clearance code. Her eyes widened as she began exploring the system, "This computer is tied into two networks. The main network and a private mainframe dedicated to the use of the President."

"And I'm willing to bet that what we want is on the private mainframe." Macen opined.

"You wouldn't be wrong." T'Kir confirmed, "The security network is on a third mainframe but this one can observe the Security network without yielding access either way."

"Can you locate the shield generator?" Macen asked.

"Easily." T'Kir answered breezily and she began her inquiry. She began tapping her finger on the desk and then she stopped and sat upright in the plush chair she occupied, "The generator is in the mansion's basement, over in the west wing."

"Can it be shut down by remote?" Macen enquired.

T'Kir shook her head, "It's a manual operation."

"Print a flimsy of the layout of this facility and mark our present location." Macen ordered.

"Aye, aye, Captain Bligh." T'Kir sketched off a salute and got to work. The printer, located on the other half of the wraparound desk began to spit out flimsies. T'Kir distributed a schematic of the basement levels to each of the team members.

"Where's yours?" Daggit enquired of T'Kir.

T'Kir jerked her thumb in Macen's direction, "I'm with him. If I'm not beside him it's because I'm dead and then I won't care where I'm at."

Daggit looked surprised, "Very well."

"Rab," Macen interrupted, "that shield hast to come down at all costs."

Daggit jerked his head up and down, "You can count on us."

"Wait a minute." Parva interjected, "No one said anything about 'at all costs' before we left."

Daggit gave her a fierce, feral smile, "Welcome to the team, honey."

"You can keep the team." Parva complained, "I want to live."

"Stick close by and you'll be fine." Daggit grimly assured her.

"I better be mister or no sex for you, one month." Parva threatened.

Daggit took a phaser from one of the fallen guards and exited the office. Radil followed. Parva and Kort slung their weapons and picked up Iotian phasers from the fallen guards. After they'd left, Macen retrieved the final guard's phaser, adjusted its setting and shot each of the guardsmen before taking up station at the doorway.

"Executing prisoners now?" T'Kir teased.

"Now they won't wake up for awhile." Macen returned.

"Sure, sure." T'Kir retorted and resumed her search for the evidence linking Solarian Security Systems and the Oxmyx's Presidency.

Alarms sounded and Macen shook his head in regret, "So much for Daggit's team going unnoticed.

Daggit and the others exited the corridor leading to the Presidential Office. Several staffers started at their sudden appearance. Consulting their floor layouts, they turned right and proceeded towards the wing containing the shield generator. Unfortunately, as they hurried away, a staffer ran towards a central pillar and slammed her fist on a bright red button. Alarms sounded across the entire mansion and the surrounding grounds.

"So much for the element of surprise." Parva groused.

Daggit scowled, "Our mission remains the same. Radil, beside me. Kort and Parva, bring up the rear."

"Yessir." Parva remarked and leapt to attention.

"Move out." Daggit ordered.


	17. Chapter 17

261

Gilan, the Assistant Chief Engineer, was startled as Sheila Peterson, Hamish and Trevloi burst into the engine room and began brandishing weapons. Peterson shouted for everyone to move away from their stations and to gather in the centre of the space. A junior engineer reached for her comm badge and the Farruck gunman, Trevloi, stunned her. Upon hearing the angry outcry from her compatriots, he simply thumbed the intensity setting of his pulse rifle up to the lethal setting.

"We would prefer not killing you," Peterson was explaining to the captive audience, "but we will without a moment's hesitation if provoked. What this means is that you should shut up and do as you're told."

Trevloi snarled in order to stress the severity of her words. His ridged skull, cheekbone ridges and sharp teeth gave him the appearance of a predator. For all the crowd knew, he very well might be. The Farruck were a civilisation from beyond the edges of the Federation. Only one starship had ever reached the edges of their frontier. Pleasantries had been exchanged and that was all.

Trevloi was the first Farruck to travel to UFP territory. Scientists, anthropologists and sociologists had attempted to study the singular alien. He had rebuffed every such attempt. It had been a chance encounter that had brought him to Solarian Security Services. What they'd discovered was that Trevloi was a master of military science. Armed with the skills and temperament of a Starfleet Special Operations agent, Trevloi soon became the star agent of the Solarian Special Branch.

Peterson smiled. She knew that Trevloi was as steady as a Jem'Hadar. Since meeting him, she'd often wondered what a squad of Farruck would do in an encounter with a group of Jem'Hadar. When questioned over his military expertise, Trevloi merely shrugged and said that he was an amateur compared to the average Farruck. That made Farruck territory a place that Peterson preferred leaving well alone.

"All right you lot," Peterson shouted out, "I need the watch commander and I need him now."

Gilan stepped forward, covered by both Hamish and Trevloi, "I'm the Assistant Chief Engineer."

Peterson wore a feral smile, "Good. I need you to power down the warp core."

Gilan blinked in surprise. Peterson stepped forward and pressed the barrel of her phaser rifle into the underside of his jaw, "I'm in a bit of a hurry and I'm certain that someone else here can accomplish the same thing for me. Don't make yourself a liability."

"All right." Gilan relented and led Peterson over to the intermix controls, "This will take a few minutes."

"Take your time." Peterson chuckled darkly, "But not really."

Gilan suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He focused on his work instead. He was intent on taking as long as he could. That increased the chances of someone discovering what he was doing and dispatching Security to deal with this threat.

* * *

McCormick reached Sickbay and walked in. The on duty nurse and medtech looked askance at his brandishing weapons in their territory. McCormick shot them both without a moment's hesitation.

"Activate the EMH." he snarled.

The holographic image of a pleasant looking woman in her thirties appeared, "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

McCormick slapped her across the face, "Shut up bitch! Let's find out if you're programmed to be anatomically correct."

The EMH blinked and then disappeared. McCormick swore and went to a wall panel behind the physician's desk. He called up the EMH's holographic matrix and subsystem protocols. After editing choice lines of code, McCormick returned to standing in front of the doors.

"Activate the EMH."

The woman reappeared, "Please state the na…"

McCormick struck her with all of his considerable might and she went down to the floor. The EMH looked up defiantly and blinked…only this time nothing happened. Her confidence wavered and McCormick loomed over the top of her.

"I clipped your wings, Poppit." McCormick leered, "Now you're mine."

"You'll never have me." the EMH vowed.

"Yes, yes I will." McCormick chuckled darkly, "Now, let me hear you scream."

* * *

Harkins and Smythe stepped out of the turbolift and stepped onto the bridge. To Smythe's right, Lisea Danan sat at the OPS station. Smythe shot her with the pulse rifle and she collapsed onto the deck. Riker heard the weapon's discharge and leapt to his feet. He turned to see Harkins aiming his phaser at him.

"Harkins?" Riker asked and then collapsed as the particle beam lanced into him, overloading his nervous system.

Shannon Forger leapt from the Tactical station at Harkins but his reactions were honed from years of similar work and he stunned her in midair. Smythe brought his weapon to bear on Grace but the pilot was already in motion. At the beginning of hostilities she'd dove and rolled away from her station. She came to rest on one knee and cut Smythe down while Harkins was busy with Forger.

Harkins looked towards Grace and held up a hand as if trying to ward away the inevitable. Grace broke into predatory smile and she squeezed off her shot. The phaser burst caught Harkins squarely in the chest. He slumped over and folded down upon himself.

Grace called out to the rating manning the bridge's Engineering station, "Help me collect their weapons."

The lad initially quailed but then he gathered his resolve and nodded assent. He brought the phasers to Grace, who was checking vitals on the three stunned officers. The one she was the most concerned with was Danan. Her link with her symbiot was far too precious to allow some third-rate hijacker to sever it.

Grace handed back Harkins' phaser to the rating, "What's your name?"

"Josh…I mean Crewman Lawson." the boy stammered.

"Hold on to that Josh and shoot whoever I'm shooting at. Got it?" Grace insisted.

Lawson looked as though he was about to be ill but he nodded and gingerly took the handgun. Grace slapped her comm badge, "Grace to Security." Silence met her request and she tried again. After a third attempt, she gave up, "Dammit. They got Security first. They're not as stupid as I'd hoped."

"What now?" Lawson asked.

"Now you check that board of yours and you let me know if anything hinky is happening with the engines." Grace ordered.

Lawson checked his readouts and looked up excitedly, "Someone's shutting down the warp core!"

"Are you certain?" Grace enquired.

"Positive, ma'am." Lawson assured her, "The boards don't lie."

"Great." Grace grumped, "What the hell do I do now?"

* * *

In the lowest level of the Iotian Presidential Mansion, Daggit, Radil, Parva, and Kort had met up with the security force guarding the ground's shield generator. The generator complex was located at the end of a service corridor. It included the fusion reactors that powered the shield array as well as the control room that manipulated the energies involved. The power was shunted from the reactors to the mansion and the electrostatic projectors located around the mansion's perimeter and on the building's roof.

Daggit and Radil were currently trading shots with the Iotian guards. Parva and Kort were busy looking for an alternate access route. Radil was keeping the guardsmens' heads down with her cannon. Daggit chambered a round into his grenade launcher and fired off a photon grenade.

The miniature antimatter warhead struck a corridor wall and began its matter/antimatter annihilation sequence. The resultant energy discharge killed everyone in the confined area of the guardsmen's access control room. Bodies were ravaged and mangled by the matter/antimatter annihilation. One guardsman's upper torso had completely disappeared and another was decapitated. The remaining corpses were all maimed in some fashion.

A door leading deeper into the reactor area opened and an Iotian stuck his head out and visibly paled. He quickly shut the door and the locks could be heard as they cycled. Daggit grimaced and chambered another grenade. He took aim and counselled Radil to seek cover.

"There will be a backblast from this Jenrya." Daggit voiced his concern, "I don't want you caught by it."

For a half second, Radil's expression changed. It was the thrill of hope that played across her features. Daggit recognised it but was incapable, at least during a combat situation, of analysing the situation. Seeing her safely tucked back behind another wall, Daggit squeezed the trigger and leapt behind the wall Radil was sheltering behind.

The two soldiers were pressed up against each other and that same flicker crossed Radil's features again. This time it lingered for a longer period of time. Daggit opened his mouth to speak but an explosion silenced him. Daggit peered around the corner to look down the corridor and saw that the door's lock mechanism was destroyed and that the door was hanging loosely on its hinges.

Kort and Parva came strolling up at that moment and Parva's mouth quirked into a mirthful grin, "Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?"

Daggit and Radil separated and Radil flushed. Daggit shook his head, "Nothing that I'm aware of. Why?"

Parva's eyes narrowed and her grin spread, "Because you both look distinctly guilty. Don't they Kort?"

Kort was sombre, "Indeed they do."

"There's only one appropriate response." Parva snapped her fingers and threw her arms around Kort, "Take me Kort, take me now!"

"How do you want it?" Kort growled as he tipped her back.

"As T'Kir would say, 'ride me hard, Cowboy'." Parva replied in a sultry voice.

"Surely." Kort assured her with confidence and then leaned in closer and whispered, "What's a cowboy?"

Parva patted him on the cheek as he lifted her back to her feet, "Drop by my quarters tonight and I'll have Rab show you what a cowboy is. You can take turns branding me."

Kort blinked and looked over at Daggit. Daggit gave the barest of shrugs, "She's serious."

"Are you?" Kort demanded.

"I never said I'd be there." Daggit racked the pump slide on his launcher and began to walk down the corridor, "She said it, not me."

Radil paused and then asked Parva, "What's up with him?"

Parva shook her head, eyes narrowed in concentration, "I don't know but I intend to find out as soon as this little mission is over. He won't talk until the shooting stops so it's pointless to ask while he can't process the answer."

"I guess that means we need to keep him alive long enough to talk." Radil opined and took off after Daggit.

Parva glanced over at Kort and asked, "Are you worried?"

"Of course not." he replied bombastically, then his features became less certain, "Of course I am. Jenrya and I only resumed our relationship because you and Rab began yours. If, for any reason, she felt that Daggit were available for an involvement, then I don't know how she'd react."

"Rab chose me over her," Parva stated, "so I'm not too worried about that front but I'd hate to have to squish Jenrya like a bug."

Kort smiled, "I'd prefer if you didn't."

"Even if she's planning on cheating on you?"

Kort shrugged, "Emotional matters confuse Jenrya. She's been a soldier since the age of twelve. That's a young age even for Bajorans. Even among Klingons it's rare for a youngster of those years to assume the mantle of a warrior. All of the years that Jenrya should have spent developing interpersonal skills and life goals she spent in combat. She's made up for some lost time as a member of the SID team but she still has years to go and she has the mentality of a Bajoran teenager, hence the developing predicament."

Parva placed her fists upon her hips, "She doesn't deserve you."

Kort laughed, "Yes, she does. She just doesn't believe it yet."

"Think we should catch up with the naughty youngsters?" Parva cocked her head in the direction of the reactor room.

"After you, my dear." Kort ushered her down the corridor. Phaser fire could just be heard as they started down the hallway. They quickened their pace.

* * *

Back in Oxmyx's office, T'Kir worked furiously at sorting through terabytes of information. Macen stood vigil at the door. Footsteps could be heard running towards the office. Macen set the intensity of the Iotian phaser he'd confiscated and waited for an available target.

Three guardsmen soon presented themselves. They were cautiously approaching the open door leading to the President's bastion. Macen stepped out, took a two-handed aim and fired. The three guardsmen were neutralised in less than ten seconds.

"Fire!" a second wave of guardsmen received their orders and unleashed a torrent of phaser fire towards Macen. Macen returned to his place to the right of the doorframe. Like the rest of the walls in the lower levels, doorframe was composed of pure duranium.

"How's it coming?" Macen asked T'Kir in a conversational tone as particle beams blasted by him.

"I've set the search parameters," T'Kir shrugged, "now it's just waiting for the computer to finish its search. Problems?"

Macen grinned, "Not yet. I might need your help later though."

T'Kir smiled in return, "Just say the word."

Macen dropped to one knee and pivoted around the doorframe. He immediately opened fire. The guardsmen, caught in the middle of an advance, were caught unprepared. Macen cut through half their numbers before they returned fire.

Macen kicked off and flew backwards away from the doorway. T'Kir shook her head, "Are we taking prisoners?"

Macen rolled onto his knees and stood, "Nope. They outnumber us already. The last thing I want to see is a siege that lasts long enough for the stunned personnel to awaken and threaten us again."

If there was one thing T'Kir had come to appreciate over the last twelve years of knowing Macen, it was that he didn't look kindly upon threats to his, or anyone he cared about's, safety. He would take any measure he deemed necessary to neutralise a perceived threat. Macen had no regard for the consequences of his actions when he was like this, as could be seen by the end of his active service career with Starfleet. As comforting as T'Kir found it to realise that Macen would literally go to any lengths to protect her, she didn't want him to do anything that would jeopardise their position with the SID.

"Don't worry," Macen scolded, "I won't jeopardise our standing with our employers."

T'Kir blinked in surprise. Next, she blushed. Macen chuckled.

"Don't worry, you weren't telepathically broadcasting." he assured her, "I could sense your concern but your face and especially your eyes gave your thoughts away."

"Damn it." T'Kir muttered.

Macen shrugged, "The dangers of a union as intertwined as ours is."

"Never thought I'd wind up bonding with a flippin' telepath." T'Kir murmured.

Macen fired a few shots at the encroaching guardsmen and then returned to their conversation, "I'm not a telepath, remember? You just never expected to form a rapport with someone else that was psi sensitive as well. Add to it my ability to sense the Currents and you occasionally get freaked out because you're not in control of the situation like you would be with a non-esper."

"That, and you're too clever by half." T'Kir grumped.

"Just observant." Macen replied and fired off another salvo. As phaser blasts sailed by in reply, Macen asked T'Kir, "Almost done there?"

"D'you need help or something?" T'Kir teased.

"I wouldn't turn it down." Macen admitted.

"Keep your shorts on," T'Kir winked and smiled, "at least until later."

"I make no promises."

T'Kir's eyes went wide and she covered her open mouth with her hand, "Scandalous."

"You take low." Macen grew serious, "I've got high covered. Wait until I tell you to go."

She watched as he reset the intensity level on the Iotian phaser. It began to whine.

"Well?" T'Kir demanded, "Don't just stand there! Throw it for Elements sake!"

"Calm down." Macen softly urged and drew his phaser from its holster, "Ready?"

"I was ready as soon as that thing started howling." T'Kir retorted.

"It's hardly 'howling'." Macen chastised.

"It's close enough!" T'Kir insisted, "Throw the damn thing already!"

"On three." Macen suggested, "One…two…three!"

T'Kir swung out of the doorway, hugging the doorframe. Being left handed, she was in a position ideally suited to her disposition. She aggressively fired into the assembling crowd of guardsmen.

Macen stepped out and began firing. His right handed grip required that he clear himself of the doorframe. He clasped the overloading Iotian phaser in his left hand. Macen shot two or three guardsmen before he threw the whining phaser into their midst. The surrounding guardsmen attempted to dive atop the critically charged phaser in a vain effort to disarm it.

It was too late. The phaser had reached the point of no return. The prefire chamber had overloaded and now a massive discharge was imminent. Macen grabbed T'Kir and pulled her back behind the shelter of the office walls.

The whining pitch of the phaser finally reached a howl and then it exploded. The phaser's power pack discharged, essentially turning itself into a small bomb. The discharge washed across the captive and fleeing guardsmen. Their bodies were tossed to and fro.

A wave of destructive energy pulsed past the open doorway of the Presidential Office. The bookshelves, pictures and the furniture were destroyed as their molecular bonds were assaulted and dissipated. T'Kir sat huddled into Macen's arms. Her hands were pressed against her sensitive ears and her eyes were squeezed closed.

As swiftly as the barrage had begun, it ceased. Macen loosened his grip on T'Kir and softly shook her.

"It's over." he said both audibly and telepathically.

T'Kir's eyes fluttered open and she released her ears, "Damn. You've gone and blown everything up again."

Macen stood and grinned, "Whoops." He reached down and helped her to her feet, "Guess someone will have to deduct that out of my pay."

"Don't tempt me." T'Kir growled, "I _hate_ it when you overload phasers."

"Not all of us are comfortable carrying grenades." Macen replied with a wry grin.

"The worst part of it is that you know how I feel and you do it anyway." T'Kir complained.

"Take a look at that corridor now." Macen jerked his thumb towards the doorway, "Tell me a faster way of accomplishing that."

T'Kir sighed, "There isn't. I just hate it. All the mental death screams get to be too much."

"Like a phaser blast is better." Macen snorted.

"There's still the fear and the anticipation." T'Kir acknowledged, "But there's also time for acceptance. With a bomb there's just dread, panic and then agony."

Macen thought about it, "It's that bad?"

T'Kir nodded and he put his hands on his hips, "Then we'll only use bombs as a weapon of last resort. Which, by the way, I considered that last application to be."

T'Kir nodded, looking oddly vulnerable. It was disturbing. She quietly returned to her efforts at sorting through the Presidential database. Macen stole a glance at the corridor outside.

Bodies were haphazardly strewn about. The stench of burnt flesh hung in the air. Macen idly wondered how that was affecting T'Kir. It was a documented fact that a Vulcan woman's olfactory senses were almost as sensitive as her hearing. This charnel house had to be disturbing her.

Although he couldn't see movement, he could hear shouts and the issuance of orders and directives from beyond the bottleneck of corpses. Within moments, a clear soprano called out, "Hey you! What about a temporary truce so we can collect our dead?"

"Only if both sides return to their respective ends of the hallway at the resumption of hostilities." Macen countered.

"A mutual verbal five-minute warning?" the voice asked.

"Agreed." Macen conceded before adding, "And I get to supervise your efforts?"

"No problem." the female officer agreed, "We're beginning our recovery…now."

A petite brunette stepped out. She wore the livery of the Presidential Guardsmen and bore the sleeve insignia of an Iotian Starfleet lt. commander. She also still held her phaser in her hands.

"Is Admiral Oxmyx still alive?" she asked.

Macen nodded, "He wishes he weren't but he'll live." Macen holstered his phaser, "We have a temporary case of peace breaking out. You should try it."

The brunette smiled and attached her phaser to her belt, "You have a name?"

"Brin Macen."

"Alyss." she smiled, "Is that woman in there with you, your girlfriend?"

Macen shook his head, "Wife."

"Too bad." Alyss grumped, "I would have enjoyed 'interrogating' you." She broke into a wicked grin, "I still might."

"Are all Presidential Guardsmen this audacious?" Macen enquired.

Alyss nodded while maintaining her grin, "Sure. It's a job requirement."

"Well, right now your job requires you to stand watch over the removal of a couple of dozen of your fellow guardsmen. Officers that I killed." Macen clarified, "You might be next."

Alyss shook her head, "Never happen."

"Why not?" Macen asked coldly.

"Now you've seen how cute I am." Alyss replied with a twinkle, "Now you'll hesitate and I'll get the drop on you. It's that simple."

Macen laughed, "It's not that simple. I hesitate and my wife'll shoot me waaay before you get the chance."

"And here I thought you had a pair of _mivshrin_ hanging under that gunbelt." Alyss called out as her troops began filtering into the corridor and collecting the bodies and remnants of bodies.

Macen waved a finger at her, "No fair trying to get me to break the truce. It's not going to happen so why don't we concentrate on trying to find a way out of this situation."

"You want to negotiate?" Alyss was surprised.

"Always a safe bet in my book." Macen replied.

"Some worlds eating, planet smacking, fifty foot tall Fed monster you turn out to be." Alyss kicked a piece of debris, "I liked you better before we talked."

"The point is we are talking so let's keep talking." Macen insisted, "Enough people have died already."

"Boring but okay." Alyss replied, "Here's my first demand is that the Admiral gets returned to us. Alive and breathing."

"Easy enough." Macen agreed, "My only demand is that T'Kir and I get to walk free."

"It'll never happen." Alyss vowed.

Macen shrugged, "Then we go back to the carnage. Take a look at the bodies being hauled out of here and think about it."


	18. Chapter 18

19

McCormick leaned over the fallen EMH. He'd left his pulse rifle on the physician's desk but he retained his phaser pistol. The bridge opened a comm link to Sickbay at that moment.

* * *

"Bridge to the medical staff." Grace's voice rang out, "Please dispatch a team to the bridge."

After a moment's silence, Grace repeated herself. The EMH shouted out, "Sickbay's been taken. Ahhhh!"

McCormick slapped the EMH so hard it made it her photonic teeth loosen, "Shut up you nameless bitch!"

McCormick grabbed a hold of her hair and banged her head up against the bulkhead, "They make you realistic enough to pass for human to make you a better doctor. What they don't tell you is that it also makes you a better trollop."

He leaned in close enough to her that she could feel his breath across her cheek, "That call means Harkins' assault on the bridge failed. Now they'll be looking for us all. That means we're a tad rushed, sweetie. Why don't you spread your legs and make my job easier."

The EMH head butted McCormick, breaking his nose. He savagely kicked her in the ribs and went for his belt buckle, "You're gonna pay for that, little missy."

Just then, the Sickbay doors opened.

* * *

"Grace to Rhiann," Grace said via comm badge, "I know you have another hour before your shift starts but I need you to relieve me."

"Of course." Rhiann replied brightly, "What's going on?"

Grace gave her a synopsis of current events and Rhiann thought for a moment before replying, "Why don't you give Ceryx a call? I'm an Andorian. I was training on how to respond to situations like this when I was in grade school."

The Andorians did have a strong warrior tradition in their culture. It was a trait that Grace was happy that she could suddenly count on.

"Report to the bridge." Grace ordered, "I'll equip you with our attackers' spoils."

"Be right there." Rhiann was so bloody cheerful it made Grace wonder if the Andorian pilot stayed awake wishing for an event like this.

* * *

Joachim Dracas meandered down the corridor. He knew he really should have reported in earlier but the truth was that Kort made him uncomfortable. What was worse, the doctor realised that he made his patients nervous and used that knowledge to torture them. He'd thought that Roman doctors lacked tact. He'd never encountered sadism until Kort had examined him.

Dracas knew that a great deal of his discomfort had been a direct result of his provincialism. Other than the Omicrons and a few select Vulcans, the Nova Romans had never had to deal with outright aliens before. Kort had sensed his uneasiness and had capitalised upon it. The Klingon had said that immersion therapy was the best treatment for what ailed Dracas.

Yesterday Kort had left a message for Dracas that his medical exam results were in and that he'd like to discuss them with Joachim. Dracas had postponed going to Sickbay until the "good" Doctor was gone. He was still uneasy discussing his medical condition with an artificial being like the EMH but he preferred a computer driven holographic representation of a person over a very real Klingon. Besides, from what Dracas could tell from his brief encounter with the EMH, she was a sweet young lady…even if she wasn't real.

Truth be told, Dracas was growing more excited to be going to Sickbay with every passing second. The chance to witness an engineering marvel like the EMH in action was simply too good to pass up. He expected his consultation to be one of the more interesting experiences of his short life.

The doors to Sickbay opened with a distinctive hiss. Dracas stepped in and immediately noted the rifle lying across the physician's desk. Turning his head to his right he noted the hulking form of McCormick leaning in over the EMH. The holographic doctor looked terrified and Dracas drew his short sword in one smooth stroke.

McCormick began to turn and Dracas saw that the man's fly was undone. As the Solarian agent began to reach for the pistol tied down to his leg Dracas was filled with rage. The EMH might not be a human but as he was discovering on this ship, humanity was a relative term. Dracas threw his sword with all of his might as the phaser pistol cleared the holster.

McCormick staggered backwards as the sword impaled itself into his chest. It was a perfect shot, piercing his heart. Dracas smiled in triumph. All those hours spent practicing that particular throw had paid off at long last.

McCormick dropped the phaser and then collapsed on top of the deck. The EMH scrambled away from the corpse, revulsion filling her features. Dracas rushed to her side.

"Are you injured?" Dracas asked as he took hold of her shoulders, "Can you be hurt?"

The EMH numbly nodded her head, "M'fine."

"Look at me." he commanded the stricken hologram. Her gaze averted from McCormick's fallen form to Dracas' eyes, "He can't threaten you any more. You're safe."

The EMH snorted, "As safe as anyone on this ship." Bitterness tinged her voice, "He has friends. He mentioned a "Harkins' going to the bridge."

Dracas frowned, "They've obviously hit Security as well."

The EMH's brow furrowed, "What makes you say that?"

Dracas bent to retrieve the phaser pistol, "These weapons came from the ship's armoury. They'd have to neutralise the Security staff in order to obtain them."

"Oh." The EMH's mouth and eyes formed little O's.

"Can you manage?" Dracas asked.

The doctor nodded, "I think so."

"Where's your staff?"

"Over there." The EMH pointed out, "He stunned them before coming after me."

Dracas studied her, "Do you want me to flush your memory?"

The EMH gave him a wry smile, "Tempting, but no. What I want is for someone to program me with self defence tactics in case this happens again."

"I can show you some techniques any time that you'd like." Dracas offered, "For now, though, can you revive your staff?"

"Do you need them?" The EMH was focused now.

Dracas nodded, "There may be wounded on the bridge and at the Security station."

"You're going to attempt a rescue?"

"Yes." Dracas affirmed.

"But you're alone." the EMH protested.

"I won't be as soon as you awaken your staff." Dracas mildly redirected the EMH's attention.

Dracas could swear the EMH blushed. She hurried off to examine and treat her fallen comrades while Dracas stripped McCormick of his weaponry. First, he pulled his sword out of the man's chest and returned it to its sheath. Next he unfastened the utility belt/holster and pulled it free from McCormick's bulk.

Dracas strapped on the holster and placed the phaser pistol in its appointed place. He then retrieved the pulse rifle from the desk and checked its charge. He rummaged about in the utility belt's pouches and discovered spare power packs for the rifle and pistol both. By this point the EMH had administered stimulants to both the duty nurse and the medtech.

The two medical officers were groggy but awake. Dracas examined them and then turned to the EMH.

"Gather up two medkits." he suggested, "I need them to be equipped to revive stunned personnel and treat phaser burns."

"Right!" The EMH acknowledged and snapped to it.

Dracas returned his focus to the two recovering medical staffers, "Are you capable of performing your duties?"

The nurse merely nodded. He didn't trust his voice as of yet. The medtech squeaked out a "Yes." Her voice was still unsteady.

"Your efforts may prove to be the undoing of the enemy." Dracas attempted to rouse them to action, "I need you to follow me. Now."

Both staffers rose to their feet. They were unsteady at first but they quickly found their footing. The EMH brought their medkits.

"Here's everything that you'll need." she said.

The two medical officers gratefully accepted their gear and looked to Dracas.

Dracas broke into a feral smile, "Now we go on the hunt."

* * *

Ceryx manned the _Obsidian's_ helm. Rhiann accepted Harkins' phaser and checked the charge on its powerpack. Ceryx possessed Smythe's phaser pistol while Lawson was armed with Smythe's rifle. The two stunned prisoners were stretched out by the Captain's Ready Room's entrance.

Danan, Riker, and Forger were stretched out in front of the Science and Command stations. The relief Tactical and OPS officers had been called and were now manning those particular duty posts. They divided Riker and Danan's pistols between them. With that done, Grace and Rhiann were planning on an assault aimed at liberating Engineering.

The turbolift doors opened and Grace, Rhiann and Lawson all aimed their weapons at the lift's entrance/exit. Dracas stormed out with his rifle at the ready. Grace breathed a sigh of relief and holstered her weapon.

"Joachim, you could have called ahead." Grace scolded.

"And alert the enemy of my imminent arrival?" Dracas grinned, "That wouldn't constitute a surprise."

Grace's features twisted in a wry expression, "That 'surprise' almost got you stunned."

The two medical officers exited the lift and Grace looked them over, "Good thinking. You can start with Commander Riker."

"Belay that." Dracas ordered, "You'll awaken the bridge staff when I give the authorisation." Dracas moved over to the fallen forms of Smythe and Harkins. Both wore cargo handler's coveralls and when Dracas rolled Harkins over he found Harkins' name printed on the left breast.

"Revive this one." Dracas commanded and then nodded towards Grace, "You, come here."

"I am not your puppet." Grace growled, "Don't bark orders at me."

"Hold my rifle so I can interrogate this man!" Dracas snapped.

Grace heaved a sigh but she relented. She snatched Dracas' rifle from his outstretched arm and stood by while the nurse administered a stimulant to Harkins. It took several moments but Harkins' eyes fluttered open.

"Where am I?" he croaked.

Dracas knelt beside Harkins and grabbed the man by the lapels and lifted him off the deck, "How many of you are there? What parts of the ship have you taken?"

"Go _frinx_ yourself." Harkins laughed darkly.

Dracas dropped Harkins and then drew his sword. He contemplated its blade for a moment and then he plunged it into Harkins' leg, "How many of you are there and what sections of the ship do you occupy?"

"_Frinx_ you." Harkins hissed between clenched teeth.

Dracas twisted the blade and Harkins cried out. Dracas twisted the blade in the opposite direction and Harkins began sobbing, "I'll talk…I'll talk. Christ Almighty…there are seven of us."

"Six." Dracas revealed coldly, "I've killed your man in Sickbay."

"Six then." Harkins gasped, "We have Engineering and the brig."

"How many in each?" Dracas demanded.

"Three in Engineering and one guarding the brig." Harkins deflated as he passed out.

Dracas pulled his sword free and looked up at the nurse, sedate him but do not treat his wound until you've treated the bridge officers. The nurse nodded, wearing a worried expression.

Dracas rose, sheathing his sword, and looked over at Grace, "From what I've read about your Federation, I'm surprised you didn't object."

Grace shrugged, "Don't let appearances fool you. I wasn't born in the Federation. Furthermore, Captain Macen probably would have eventually used that method if T'Kir weren't around."

"Yes." Dracas nodded, "I have been impressed with the Captain's strength and resolve. He will be an easy man to serve under."

"There are those days." Grace conceded.

"What's happening?" a groggy Riker asked as he struggled to rise.

Grace handed Dracas his rifle and hurried over to Riker's side, "You, Lisea and Shannon were stunned by apparent saboteurs."

"Crewmen?" Riker blinked and widened his eyes, trying to clear them.

"Yes." Grace answered.

"How many?"

"Seven." Grace replied ruefully, "They've taken Engineering and are shutting down the warp core. They also have the brig. They had Sickbay but Joachim took care of that problem."

"Joachim?" Riker was confused on that point then his memory served him and recognition lit his eyes, "Dracas. Gotcha."

"Oh my _frinxing _head." Danan complained as she regained consciousness. Riker tried his feet out and moved to Danan's position where he knelt.

"Lees, are you alright?" Riker asked worriedly, "How's the Danan symbiot?"

"Mad." Danan's voice sounded steadier than a moment ago, "Like its host."

"Oh my God!" Forger rasped as the stimulant drove her out of unconsciousness, "Did anyone get the ID of that gunman?"

"One of them is named Harkins." Grace elucidated.

"The other is named Smythe." Dracas added.

Grace blushed, "Joachim pointed out their names. We overlooked them."

"Who's 'we'?" Riker enquired.

"Rhiann, Ceryx, Lawson and me." Grace revealed.

"So," Riker grinned ruefully, "you managed to stop both gunmen while the rest of us were caught cold?"

Grace shifted uncomfortably, "The advantages of being superhuman."

"I suddenly wish I was as well." Riker mused, "If I'd had your reflexes I could have stunned this…"

"Harkins." Grace supplied.

"Thanks." Riker nodded, "I could have stunned this Harkins and Smythe before they gunned down two members of my crew."

"Hey!" Forger had propped herself up on her elbows and was noting Riker's relative position to Danan, "What do I have to do to get personalised attention?"

"Try sleeping with him." Danan remarked.

Forger grimaced, "No thanks. Have fun with that."

Riker looked over at Danan and whispered, "Is she…?"

Danan smiled, "No. You're just not her type."

"Humph." Riker grunted and returned his attention to Grace, "So what was your plan?"

"Rhiann and I were going to retake Engineering. From there we would move to the brig and liberate the prisoners." Grace answered.

"Are there prisoners?" Riker asked.

"Why else would they hold the brig?" Grace theorised.

"It would make sense to hold the Security force in their own brig." Dracas added.

"What's your part in this?" Riker shifted his attention to Dracas, "What role have you played besides liberating Sickbay?"

"I had the medical hologram revive the medical staff so that they could treat the wounded after I retook the bridge." Dracas explained, "Fortunately, it was already free."

"Thanks to Hannah." Danan pointed out and rose to her feet. Forger had also regained her footing. Riker frowned.

"You're something of an engineer." Riker said to Dracas, "Could you assist in the engine room after it's freed?"

"I've performed warp core restarts in the past." Dracas boasted, "It's something of an art."

"So I've heard." Riker smiled, "All right, you're on the Engineering team. Shannon, you'll accompany him. Hannah, you and Rhiann are on the brig. Any questions?"

Silence met the inquiry, "No questions then? Gear up Shannon and everyone else get back to your stations."

The OPS and Tactical ratings gave Danan and Riker back their phasers. Lawson surrendered his phaser rifle to Grace. Ceryx handed Forger his captured phaser.

"Good luck." Riker wished then addressed Dracas, "We need that warp core up ASAP."

"No worries." Dracas grinned confidently as the lift doors closed.

* * *

"Is it done?" Peterson demanded, "Is it shut down?"

Gilan stubbornly refused to answer until Peterson shoved her rifle barrel into his ribs, "Yes." The words grated out of the Gideonite's mouth, "It will require at least an hour to restart."

Peterson flashed a wolfish smile of victory, "Then all we have to do is wait for our Iotian comrades to board us."

"Speak for yourself." Gilan muttered.

"Watch the attitude boy." Peterson warned.

"'Boy'?" Gilan repeated scornfully, "You're scarcely older than I am."

"Experience ages." Peterson replied, "And I have a galaxy's worth of experience on you."

"We'll see." Gilan shot back.

"A little late to be baring your fangs now." Peterson laughed and flipped open her communicator, "Peterson to Harkins."

Her query was met with silence, "Peter, this is Sheila. Pick up dammit."

"This is Tom Riker." a steely voice replied, "I suggest you surrender now."

"You may have Peter and your precious bridge but I've shut down your warp core and I have hostages. Seems we're at an impasse, eh?"

"No, we're not." Riker replied and cut the comm circuit.

"Riker?" Peterson said uncertainly and then she closed her communicator. Turning to Hamish and Trevloi, she began issuing orders, "Get ready for visitors. Take four hostages apiece and use them as human shields."

The human and the Farruck began moving when the main doors opened. Forger shot Hamish and the man crumpled. Dracas fired upon Trevloi and then shifted his aim and stunned Peterson. It came as a surprise for Dracas to realise that Trevloi was still standing. Forger adjusted the setting on her phaser and shot him again.

Trevloi staggered but remained upright. He fired his pulse rifle from the hip and shot Forger. Dracas dropped his rifle and drew his sword. He leapt forward and slashed Trevloi's rifle arm.

The Farruck dropped his rifle and broke into a feral smile, "Excellent!"

The Farruck's forearms bulged larger than any muscle in his body and the muscles suddenly began to ripple. A tiny orifice above Trevloi's wrists widened and a curved and sharpened bone slid through the opening. The Farruck stood there with two apparent claws, one sticking out of each arm.

"Now the battle can be joined." Trevloi said with satisfaction.

"I'll be damned." Dracas muttered and then Trevloi surged forward.

* * *

Grace and Rhiann stood to either side of the entrance leading to the brig. They'd already planned their assault. Grace would bypass the door locks and open the door. Rhiann would wait and then the two of them would attack the saboteur together.

Grace opened the outer access panel and tried to remember everything T'Kir had taught her of lockpicking. Grace rerouted the various power and data lines and the door slid open. Several pulse bolts sailed out of the open space. Grace held up one finger, then two followed by a third. Both women sprang into action on three.

They jumped into the doorway simultaneously and opened fire on Lance Red Wolf. The man staggered backward as particle beams slammed into him. Layers of his ablative armour cracked and peeled off. The pair ended their assault and Red Wolf smiled.

"Is that all you've got?" he asked and then shot Rhiann.

The Andorian went down and Grace ducked behind the bulkhead surrounding the doorway. Red Wolf laughed as Grace pondered what to do next. Rhiann appeared to be breathing so at least she wasn't dead. Now she just had to do something about the cackling sadist in the next room.

Grace threw her rifle into the brig. Red Wolf tracked the movement and fired at the skidding weapon. He realised his mistake and wheeled to face the doorway. Grace was already standing there with her pistol poised.

Grace fired and caught the Solarian agent in the face with a particle blast. Grace calmly strolled forward with her pistol gripped by both hands. She kicked the rifle away from Red Wolf's still form. Next she removed his pistol from its holster and threw it out into the corridor. Finally she checked his pulse and didn't find one.

"Goodbye and good riddance." she said and rose to deactivate the brig's cell forcefields. Grace tapped her comm badge, "Grace to Riker, send the nurse to the brig. Rhiann's been stunned and the entire Security team is knocked out and in the brig's cells."

"He's on his way." Riker assured her, "Good job Hannah."

"Thanks." Grace replied but she had a hollow feeling inside.


	19. Chapter 19

34

"Look," Alyss insisted, "you have to surrender. I can promise you you won't get the death penalty if you surrender but if we come in after you, you take your chances."

"Look Lieutenant…" Macen retorted.

"Alyss." she interjected.

"Fine." Macen allowed, "I'll only surrender to Starfleet. Not to the Presidential Guard, the local cops, a mafia boss, or a private citizen. We surrender to Starfleet or not at all, _Alyss_."

Alyss pursed her lips, "That's not procedure."

"Having your High Admiral playing President isn't standard procedure either, but here we are." Macen pointed out.

Alyss shook her head. Macen knew too much about recent Iotian politics. Alyss herself had kept out of the whys and wherefores of the coup. She'd merely been honoured to serve in the Presidential Guard when Oxmyx's recruiter chose her. She knew it all revolved around a series of business deals the Admiral had made but that was as far as she'd listened to rumour.

"Fine." Alyss conceded, "We'll call Starfleet and arrange something."

"Actually," Macen couldn't help but add, "I have it on good authority that they're already on their way."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" a dumbfounded Alyss asked.

* * *

Daggit and Radil entered the reactor control room with phasers blazing. The techs manning the controls never stood a chance. Parva and Kort joined them.

"Can you shut down the reactors?" Daggit asked Parva.

"Puh-lease," Parva held up a hand, "can you fire a phaser?"

"Sorry." Daggit replied perfunctorily.

"I'm glad I'm not around you every time you're in combat." Parva admitted, "You can take terse all the way to rude."

"You knew what you were getting into." Daggit reminded her.

"Knowing isn't the same thing as always liking." Parva admonished, "That's where commitment comes in."

"Yes dear." a thoroughly unchastised Daggit retorted, "Now, can you shut down the reactors and then sabotage them so they can't be brought back online?"

"Stay out of my way!" Parva exclaimed and went to work at the controls.

No sooner had she begun working then a solitary tech that had lain low during Daggit and Radil's assault stepped into the open. He had a phaser from the emergency locker and took aim at Parva. He depressed the firing stud and a cobalt beam of energy lanced forward and struck Parva. Her comrades watched her working and then a blue energy discharge erupted from her chest.

Daggit responded immediately. He whirled around, drawing his two pistols from the shoulder holster and gunned the Iotian down. He turned to Kort, who was examining Parva.

"I need to get her to medical facilities immediately." Kort insisted, "She has a hole in her heart."

"Do what you can from here." Daggit replied and turned to Radil, "Can you finish what she started?"

Radil nodded, "I think so. Help me take this cannon off."

"You're killing the woman you love." Kort growled as he began trying to repair the rupture with a dermal regenerator.

"I'm completing the mission." Daggit snapped back, "I don't have any other choice."

"But at the cost of Parva's life?" an incredulous Kort demanded.

"At any cost." Daggit's voice was devoid of any feeling.

Daggit unhooked the last strap fastening Radil's cannon to her body. She got to work on the reactor controls. Daggit stood poised, phasers ready, ready for any other intruders.

Kort had set the regenerator on its highest setting in order to stimulate cellular growth. The problem was that he couldn't control the growth and he was leaving heavy scarring. The heart would undoubtedly be permanently damaged by this repair effort. If he were aboard the _Obsidian_ he would have simply removed the organ and replaced it with an artificial heart.

Having fused the heart shut, Kort went to work on the damaged tissues surrounding the wound. He repaired the ribs and then concentrated on closing the wound. He placed defibulator modules on her heart and used the remote actuator to deliver the resuscitating charge. It took three attempts to restart Parva's heart. His new concern was the blood loss from having the heart opened to the atmosphere.

"The reactors are down." Radil announced triumphantly.

"What about sabotage?" Daggit asked.

"We set the cannon on overload and let it blow the battery and the spare power cell." Radil suggested.

"Do it." Daggit ordered and turned to query Kort, "Can she be moved?"

"What happens if she can't?" Kort snarled.

"Then I put her out of her misery here and now." Daggit answered without a qualm.

"She can be moved, you bastard."

Daggit holstered his phasers, "Give her to me."

"Isn't it a little late to care?" Kort sneered.

"I never stopped caring." Daggit stressed as he scooped Parva up into his arms, "There were no available medical facilities within easy reach. This base's medical station is on the other side of the complex. She'd have died before we fought our way there. You saved her life."

"She'll never be the same." Kort confessed, "Not without a heart transplant."

"That'll be her choice." Daggit said and turned to Radil, "Ready?"

"The charge is already building." Radil revealed, "We need to get moving."

"Then let's go." Daggit ordered, "Radil, grab Parva's rifle and phaser."

"I can overload the Iotian phaser she was carrying as well." Radil offered.

"Good thinking." Daggit nodded and she set the phaser into overload and threw it over to the pile of her equipment. She then took point and led the team out of the reactor control room. Their passage through the security room went unnoticed. They proceeded to the L in the corridor and cautiously came around the corner.

The administrative staffers were gone but there was a large contingent of Presidential Guardsmen gathered around the mouth of the corridor leading to Oxmyx's office. Macen and T'Kir were trapped.

"Could we distract them and lead them away from Macen?" Radil asked in a whisper.

Kort took umbrage, "My patient has suffered enough trauma. She may have already suffered brain damage from blood loss. I will not allow her to be jeopardised further."

"There's your answer." Daggit grimaced, "Unless we can secure a safe place for Parva to receive further treatment, we're paralysed."

Just then the various powerpacks detonated. The floor shook and a wave of energy collided with the walls behind them. The guardsmen looked around and pointed in the direction of the stricken squad.

"Great." Daggit muttered.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Alyss asked as the floor shook.

"That would be the controls to your defensive array." Macen goaded her.

"You bastard!" Alyss went for her phaser.

The lights went out and the entire facility was plunged into darkness.

* * *

"Damn!" T'Kir shouted, "Who knocked out the _frinxing_ power?"

"That would be Daggit's squad." Macen replied through the stygian gloom.

"Well, tell them to turn it back on." T'Kir demanded, "They just cost me a half hour's worth of work."

* * *

"The shield is down." a junior officer informed Crist. Crist punched the intercom button, "Crist to all transporter rooms. Begin beaming down the Security and IA personnel."

Crist strode across the room and stepped up onto the transporter pad, "Energise."

* * *

"What the _frinx_?" Radil asked the darkness.

The emergency lights came on and the guardsmen recovered from their disorientation. A female officer ordered a squad of her troops to arrest Daggit's squad. Six guardsmen surrounded the squad.

"We have a critically wounded teammate." Kort pleaded, "We need the use of medical facilities in order to stabilise her condition."

"Shut up!" a guardsman barked, "Drop your weapons and place your hands on your head."

"Rab?" Radil sought direction.

Daggit clenched his jaw.

* * *

The emergency lights came on and Alyss looked at where Macen had been…and was now gone. She swore violently. Then one of her NCOs pointed out the cluster of intruders near the reactor control centre. She ordered a detachment of men and women to arrest them.

"Chief, prepare to resume the assault on the Admiral's office."

"Aye, ma'am." the petty officer acknowledged and began to muster the remaining Iotian forces.

Footfalls could be heard coming down the stairs. Alyss' communicator began beeping and she flipped it open, "Yes?"

"Lieutenant, we're surrounded by Starfleet forces." a panicked voice replied, "They're demanding our surrender. What do we do?"

Alyss sighed, "You'd better surrender. I'll try to resolve the situation."

"Put your phasers down!" voices began to yell, "Hands on your head!"

A score of red shirted Starfleet Security officers were descending down the main stairwell. They easily outnumbered the beleaguered Guardsmen. Alyss abandoned all illusions of fighting her way out. She motioned for her troops to lay down their arms.

"All right people, its time to surrender." Alyss commanded with finality.

Starfleet red shirts in turn surrounded the squad surrounding the SID team. After a heated debate, the guardsmen surrendered. The Starfleet officer in charge of the detachment approached the SID team members.

"Do you require medical assistance?" she asked.

"Yes, we do!" Kort bellowed, "This woman needs to be transported to medical facilities immediately."

"We've secured an infirmary right here on the premises." the officer informed them, "I'll lead you to them."

"Thank you." Daggit replied.

The Lt. Commander led the way at a brisk pace. Kort was unhappy to see that Iotian medical technology was even more antiquated than the rest of their tech base. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Parva's survival.

Daggit lingered by her side and Kort growled at him, "Why don't you go kill something? It's what you're good at."

Anger clouded Daggit's face but he relented and left the Doctor to his work. If Daggit's speciality was killing then Kort's was combat medicine. If anyone could pull Parva through this, the Klingon stood the best chance.

Daggit felt hollow as he leaned up against a wall. The wall propped him up and prevented him from collapsing. The after effects of combat always weighed heavily on him but this time it was personal. The woman he loved more than life itself lay dying and he'd been willing to kill her for the sake of the mission. Daggit swore to himself that he would spend the rest of his days atoning for that.

Radil cautiously approached him, "Rab? Are you alright?"

"No." he admitted, "But I'll manage for awhile yet."

Daggit straightened up, "How can I help?"

"Apparently Admiral Crist has arrived and he's looking for us all." Radil explained.

Daggit's eyes narrowed, "I'll talk to Crist. You guard this door. Kill anyone who tries to disturb Kort."

"Literally?" Radil asked incredulously.

Daggit's eyes bored in on hers, "Of course." With that, he strode off.

Radil leaned up against the wall. She wondered if she could obey Daggit's order. A few years ago she'd have done so without a moment's hesitation. Now, things were different.

She knew the difference lay in Macen and T'Kir's influence. Either one of them could kill at the drop of a hat if it was justified but those instances were rare compared to the opportunities they were presented with. It was still far more often than Starfleet was comfortable with. This accounted for their status as privateers.

She instantly realised there wasn't a suitable provocation to jeopardise their fragile alliance with the Iotian Starfleet Internal Affairs Division. Radil also knew that under any other circumstances, Daggit wouldn't have issued that order. She'd disobey if not for her sake then for his. He'd have enough regrets from today without a murder being added to them.

Radil almost had her own regrets. Her relationship with Kort was all fire and passion but it lacked stability. She'd returned to Kort after rejecting him when Daggit had chosen Parva over her. She didn't know if it was her competitive nature or not but she wanted Daggit to change his mind. She didn't want to rejoice in Parva's death if it came to that but it would open the door for Radil's ambitions.

At one time Radil had kept Kort at a distance to avoid loss. Now it was the fact that she increasingly thought of him as a friend rather than a lover that drove her. She knew she had to settle things with Kort and she had to hurry. He'd already proposed once. She'd been flattered but she'd also realised that it was something she never wanted.

Kort would be crushed. It was only out of deference for his feelings that she'd held her tongue thus far. She knew this could very well send him back to the bottom of a bottle. The last thing he needed to do was start drinking again.

Radil knew there was no clean way out. She could simply be as honest as possible and Kort had to make his own choices. She wished she could spare him the inevitable pain he would endure but she couldn't do that and be true to herself.

She resolved she tell him as soon as this mission were over.

* * *

Daggit walked into Oxmyx's office to find a bear of a man hovering over T'Kir.

"You're hovering." T'Kir growled, "Go away."

"You wanted to see me?" Daggit asked from the doorway.

"How's Parva?" Macen asked.

"It's too early to tell." Daggit replied stoically but Macen could sense his pain.

"Is there anything we can do?" Macen enquired.

Daggit shook his head, "It's all up to Kort. He's already patched up most of the physical damage. Now the dangers are blood loss and brain damage."

Macen winced, "I'm sorry."

"She's a fighter." Daggit tried to convince himself most of all, "She'll pull through."

"Of course." Macen murmured, "Good job on bringing down the shields."

"Could you have done it without killing the power grid?" T'Kir complained.

"T'Kir." Macen said as a warning.

"I'm serious." T'Kir shot back, "We came here to get the evidence incriminating Oxmyx and discover his Solarian contacts and you go and kill the _frinxing _power just as I get there! Now I have to retrace all of my steps."

"I'm assuming you stored your pathway on your personal computer?" Daggit wondered.

"Of course." T'Kir replied.

"Then shut the hell up and leave me alone." Daggit snapped and turned on his heel and strode off.

"What did I do?" T'Kir asked and Macen rolled his eyes.

Macen moved over behind the desk and sat one hand upon the back of T'Kir's seat and the other on the desk. She smiled at him and returned to work.

"Why is he allowed to occupy that space when I wasn't?" Crist demanded.

T'Kir looked at him as if he were an annoying bug, "_He_ doesn't hover."

Crist's jaw worked but no sound issued from his mouth.

* * *

Daggit returned to the Infirmary to find Radil standing guard.

"Any word?" he asked.

"Kort's been asking for you." Radil quietly responded.

Daggit nodded his thanks and entered the medical wing. Kort stood over a biobed containing Parva. For a moment, Daggit's heart stopped as he feared the worst. His eyes came to settle on the overhead monitors and telltales and he realised that Parva was still alive.

"Kort?" Daggit asked softly.

Kort looked as though he awakened from a trance, "Let's step over here."

Kort guided Daggit to the far side of the medical section, "This way she can't hear us in her sleep." Kort explained.

"So she's just asleep?" Daggit asked, his hopes rising.

"Not exactly." Kort squelched those hopes, "She's unconscious for now. Her recovery depends on her waking up but I can't predict if and when that will happen."

"So she may remain comatose?" Daggit asked grimly.

"If she does, she's likely to fade away and eventually die." Kort revealed, "Cases have been known to happen where the person just wakes up one day in the future and makes a full recovery."

"But you don't think that's the case here." Daggit said. It wasn't a question.

"Parva lost a lot of blood and her heart was stopped for several minutes." Kort described, "Her brain did not receive adequate amounts of oxygenated blood and there was damage. These instruments aren't as precise as those aboard the ship but they do reveal that Parva suffered damage to the part of the brain that houses memory. Until she wakes up, we have no way of knowing what she's lost."

Daggit looked sick and Kort steadied him, "I hate to say it but there's more. I may have repaired the hole to Parva's heart but my tools were inadequate. There extensive damage. Permanent damage without transplanting an artificial heart. That would have to be her decision of course."

Daggit shook his head, "Parva's explained to me the Orion stigma attached to biosynthetics. She'll probably refuse to undergo surgery."

This time Kort grimaced, "Then is many ways, Parva will be half the woman she was. Her heart is heavily scarred and cannot endure the stresses it once easily shrugged off. She is weakened and cannot afford to tax herself. To do so would kill her."

"Surely it can't be that bad." Daggit replied.

"She's crippled, Rab." Kort stressed, "You'll have to help her come to accept that."

"I…I'll try." Daggit was unsteady.

"Come on now." Kort urged him toward Parva's bed, "She's needs a familiar voice and a comforting touch right now to guide her back to consciousness."

Stunned, Daggit took up position beside Parva's bedside. He stroked her cheek and held her hand. Slowly, hesitantly, he began to talk. He expressed his regret at placing the mission above her health. Then he moved on to lighter fare, plans they had made for an upcoming leave, her desire to redesign the _Obsidian's_ warp core and augment her phaser arrays. He laughed about the dinners they'd shared and reminisced over the conversations they'd had.

Kort stood back and watched. He found Daggit's grief to be reassuring and found himself forgiving his old friend. Now if he could just fathom Radil's responses. She'd been growing more distant since their evening on Magna Roma. Her blatant flirtation with Daggit was just another in a growing series of ill-fated trends.

Radil had run from him in the past and all the signs were there for yet another escape attempt. Their friendship was strong but their relationship as lovers was beginning to leave much to be desired. Radil couldn't bring herself to commit and that was crippling their relationship. He wondered if it were time for him to sever the bond between them. The more he pondered it, the more logical it seemed.

* * *

"I've got it!" T'Kir crowed, "Damn I'm good!"

"Let me see." Crist crowded in beside Macen.

"Back off big fella." T'Kir retorted, "I'm transmitting copies of this data to your computer aboard the station."

Crist clapped his hands together, "Excellent."

"You have the contracts and the contact lists?" Macen asked.

T'Kir's eyes sparkled, "Of course. The contracts have all been matched with the corresponding orders to deploy Iotian ships. There were three contacts but Hiram Zeist was the principle contractor and he happens to be an Operations Manager at Solarian Security Systems."

Macen grinned, "Now we go to Starfleet."

"How can we help?" Crist asked.

"Sorry." Macen clapped Crist on the shoulder, "The UFP Starfleet. It's all about jurisdiction."

"Of course." Crist nodded, "I understand, but surely we can provide an escort. Surely these Solarian Security Systems types will have a fleet of their own?"

"Most of it will be deployed but there's likely to be some reserve ships lingering about." Macen admitted.

"We'll see what forces are available after the battle and send what we can to escort you." Crist wouldn't take "No" for an answer.

"All right." Macen conceded, "We'll see after the battle. How's the battle going?"

"The _Enterprise_ and her siblings have taken moderate to heavy damage in the first engagement. The _Obsidian_ engaged the _Vice_ and crippled her. She has been silent ever since. The last reports I heard were that the ship's warp core appeared to be failing."

"I need to get aboard my ship!" Macen insisted.

"I'm not certain we can get you there." Crist frowned.

"We'll use a shuttlecraft if necessary." Macen pressed.

"I'm not certain I should risk an unarmed shuttle in a combat zone."

"Then let us contact our ship and they can send an armed runabout to collect us." Macen offered.

Crist nodded, "I'll arrange the communications link."

"Problem?" T'Kir asked.

"Someone has shut down the warp core on the ship." Macen remarked, "That means saboteurs."

"Couldn't be a mechanical failure?"

"In Parva's engine room?"

"Nah, didn't think so." T'Kir wore a wry grin, "So what d'we do about it?"

"Mop up the mess." Macen growled, "And take one of them alive for questioning."

"I love questioning people." T'Kir brightened.

"I think you're about to get plenty of practice." Macen promised.

"Oh, goodie!"


	20. Chapter 20

48

Dracas stared at the menacing Farruck and prepared himself for a twin bladed assault. Trevloi wore a feral smile. The Farruck's arms hung low, crossing the twin claws protruding from just above his wrists. The alien broke into a malevolent chuckle and lunged forward.

Dracas turned, facing his sword arm towards the oncoming attack. After blocking the first blow and ducking the next swipe, Dracas adjusted his stance to include a two-handed grip. The Roman Troglyte was turned sideways to his attacker. He curved his blade over his head and deflected Trevloi's first blow. Next he slashed his sword forward to catch the blow from the Farruck's left arm.

Dracas turned on his heel and delivered a slashing blow across Trevloi's ribs and abdomen. Dracas spun, deflecting another right handed attack and separated himself from his oppressor. Trevloi looked down on his bloodied ribs and gut and glared back at Dracas. Trevloi's jaw unhinged and a deafening roar loosed itself from his lips.

"Replicate me a long sword!" Dracas yelled at the assembled engineers. They hesitated for a moment and then leapt into action.

Trevloi pressed the attack again. Dracas blocked to his left and then parried to his right before spinning on his heel. The slashing attack caused Trevloi to back off for a moment. An engineer yelled for Dracas' attention.

"We have your sword ready!"

Dracas backpeddled from the momentarily confused Trevloi, "Throw it to me!"

Trevloi started forward as the engineer reluctantly threw the sword into the air. Dracas deftly caught it with his right hand. Trevloi paused before committing to the attack. Now Dracas was able to deflect each blow as it came. He allowed the Farruck to push him further back as he repulsed attack after attack.

"Finally," Dracas broke into a bright smile, "Now it's my turn."

He lunged forward with the long sword and then spun as Trevloi leapt backwards. He thrust his short sword behind him and stabbed it into the Farruck's chest. Dracas reversed his spin and pulled the blade from Trevloi's chest. He carried his spin and slashed his long sword across Trevloi's neck, beheading the Farruck.

Several of the _Obsidian's _engineers vomited on the deck. Dracas looked at them disdainfully and then headed straight for the antimatter/matter intermix controls. He ushered Gilan aside.

"Give me control."

Gilan nervously studied him, "Have you done this before?"

"Twice before." Dracas informed him, "It is as much art as science."

"It's yours then." Gilan deferred.

Dracas handed Gilan his long sword, "Hold this."

Dracas sheathed his short sword as Gilan wondered what to do with the blood soaked instrument of death he'd just been handed. James Kirk had brought disease and much needed population control to Gideon but they had died gratefully, not vying for limited medical resources. Warfare was still strange to the Gideonite even after his years in the Federation and his time aboard this ship. It all seemed rather abrupt to Gilan.

Dracas began rerouting warp plasma into the warp core, "This will jump start the intermix reaction. The plasma is a matter charged with energy from an antimatter annihilation."

"How much time will it save?" Gilan wondered.

"Since the magnetic interlocks were left on we'll be able to restart the core at full production in less then ten minutes." Dracas explained.

"Do you mind if I watch?"

Dracas gave Gilan a curious look and Gilan shrugged, "Parva was rather territorial regarding specialised repairs and procedures."

"A foolish attitude." Dracas commented, "We should train the entire staff in this procedure."

Gilan began to smile but quickly caught himself, "She thought that it was best to reserve such knowledge for specialists."

"And if the specialists are dead?" Dracas curtly asked.

"We never planned for that contingency." Gilan admitted.

"That contingency almost occurred today." Dracas declared, "Think about that."

That said, Dracas devoted all of his attention to his work. Gilan sat back and admired him and his attention to detail. Dracas' skill lived up to his namesake's. His personal courage and devotion to duty were already evidenced. He was a man of many surprises, Gilan mused whimsically.

Truth be told, Gilan was forced to admit to himself, with all the danger and adrenaline he found Dracas attractive. He still had to reconcile Dracas' coldly dispatching Trevloi but at this moment he thought he could do it. He knew on a Starfleet vessel, such a union would never be allowed. It would blur the chain of command but here, aboard the _Obsidian_, the Captain was married to one of his direct subordinates and most of the Senior Staff were involved with one another. So who knew what the future could bring?

* * *

"Main power is back on-line." Lawson reported.

"Way to go Dracas." Riker said aloud.

"Tom, I'm getting a message from Brin." Danan reported from OPS.

"Put it on screen." Riker ordered.

A sweaty and dishevelled Macen appeared, "Tom, we require immediate transport. Can you fly the Type-9s and pick us up?"

"Better than that," Riker grinned, "we can come to you."

"What about your warp core shut down?" Macen asked.

"Dracas already solved that particular problem." Riker smiled, "Looks like Parva's got someone bucking for her job."

Macen's face grew taut, "Parva's been injured. She'll never be able to perform her duties again."

"My God." Riker breathed as Danan took a sharp breath. Forger closed her eyes in sympathetic pain.

"Tell Joachim and Gilan they're both up for the job of Chief Engineer. We'll make a decision after we've dealt with Solarian." Macen said.

"You've found proof?" Riker enquired.

"And we're taking it to Starfleet." Macen announced.

"First we have to survive the upcoming battle." Riker countered.

"What's the ETA on the Romans?" Macen wondered.

"Fifteen minutes, give or take a few minutes." Riker answered.

"And the Iotians?"

"Pollux just signalled us." Riker grimaced, "Seven Iotian starships are due for the system in ten minutes."

"So almost two to one odds." Macen pondered, "We faced worse against the Omicrons."

"But we had a secret weapon then." Riker replied, "Now its just normal ship systems versus normal ship systems."

"I have faith in you." Macen grinned, "You'll find a way to even the odds."

"Now wait a minute!" Riker sputtered, "You're the Captain."

"When you hired on, _you _were the captain." Macen pointed out, "I was the Mission Commander. Its time to revisit those roles, perhaps to even make them permanent."

"Brin, I…" Riker faltered.

"I know. The loss of the _George Kelly_ has shaken your confidence." Macen calmly replied, "Its time to rediscover it. You said you wanted me to trust you. Here it is. Happy?"

"Not really but I don't have a choice do I?" Riker grumbled.

"Nope." Macen was cheery.

"We'll be in transporter range in five minutes." Riker informed him.

"We'll be ready." Macen promised.

* * *

Kort hooked up a portable transfuser and Daggit carried Parva up the stair while Kort carried the transfuser. The transfuser cloned blood cells based upon samples from Parva's Orion blood. She'd been on the machine for nearly twenty minutes now and she was nearly ready to be taken off of it. That was a good thing since its supply of plasma and blank cells was nearly exhausted.

The SID party climbed to the first floor and exited the mansion through the main entrance. The occasional phaser burn marred its opulence. The front doors were blown off their hinges. Red shirts patrolled the mansion and the grounds, seeking pockets of resistance. Fortunately for the Guardsmen, Alyss' final order had been transmitted throughout the base.

Kort removed the transfuser's wrist manacle, which withdrew the IV. He set the transfuser down on the ground several metres from the SID party's position. Soon, Macen's comm badge began to beep. When he activated it Telrik's voice came across the comm circuit.

"I have you on sensors, Captain. Are you ready to transport?"

"Energise." Macen ordered.

* * *

The group reappeared on the _Obsidian's _transporter pads. Telrik look relieved.

"Glad to have you aboard, Captain. Apparently there've been saboteurs running amuck."

"Are there any left?" Macen asked.

Telrik shook his head, "From what I've heard, Mr. Dracas and Ms. Grace took care of them."

"Any prisoners?"

"Four." Telrik supplied, "Started off with seven but those two deleted a few of them."

Macen broke into a feral grin, "Not surprising considering who we're talking about."

"Well, Mr. Dracas wanted to kill me, so I'm not surprised." Telrik huffed, "But Ms. Grace has always seemed like such a nice young lady."

"You'd be surprised." Macen replied and turned to the others, "Let's take our stations people. Rab, you drop Parva off at Sickbay first."

"Yes sir." Daggit responded enthusiastically.

Macen and T'Kir waited for a turbolift going up to the bridge while Radil waited at the next lift tube to go down to Security.

"I'm proud of Hannah." T'Kir beamed, "According to Telrik's thoughts, she defended the bridge and then freed the Security force from the brig."

"Sounds like she's come into her own." Macen agreed.

"Maybe we should take her on more of the investigative missions." T'Kir suggested as the lift doors opened.

Macen ushered T'Kir inside, "We'll see."

"We'd better." T'Kir warned.

* * *

Radil found Abby Collins nursing both a headache and a bruised ego, "How're you doing Abby?"

"First I let Mudd get away and then saboteurs nearly take over the ship. The whole Security team was neutralised."

"First off, Macen himself said that Mudd's escape was his failure." Radil cajoled, "Secondly, from what I've heard members of our own crew attacked you. You had no reason to suspect them until it was too late."

"Maybe so." Collins sighed, "But I still feel guilty."

"If you're wondering on whether or not I want a new deputy," Radil wore a half smile, "The answer is definitely not. You did the best that you could under the circumstances. That's all anyone can ask."

A faint smile tugged at Collins' lips, "Thanks Chief."

"Someday remind me to tell you about my first week with the Morticen Group." Radil said ruefully.

"One of your mercenary contracts?" Collins asked.

"_The _first contract." Radil admitted wryly, "I'd thought my years with the Resistance had prepared me for anything. I found out differently in a hurry."

"Tell me." Collins requested.

Radil sighed, "Okay, but this is between us, Abby."

"I swear." Collins vowed.

"It all began in the summer of the Earth year 2367..." Radil began.

* * *

Daggit gently laid Parva down on the biobed and her eyes began to flutter.

"Kort!" Daggit called and Kort dropped his interrogation of the EMH and ran over to the bed. Parva began to stir and her eyes came open. She looked around like a wild animal and then her eyes rested on Daggit and they lit up.

"Hey you." she said softly. Her voice cracked from dehydration. The EMH brought her a glass of water. Parva drank the water thirstily.

"Parva," Daggit began to ask, "do you remember what happened?"

"I remember a sharp pain in my chest and then the next thing I remember is your voice and your touch. You carried me after that and I felt safe."

Kort leaned forward, "Hello Parva. Do you remember me?"

Parva frowned, "You…you're a doctor." she struggled for a few more minutes then frowned, "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

"My name is Kort." he supplied, "Do you remember that we were friends?"

She shook her head, "I don't. I'm sorry."

"But you remember him?" Kort pointed at Daggit.

"Oh yes! I feel safe around him. I think I love him. It's all so jumbled."

"What's his name Parva?" Kort prodded.

Parva's eyes narrowed, "His name is…Rab!"

"Do you remember your own name?" Kort gently asked.

Parva thought about it and then smiled, "You called me Parva so I'm guessing that's it."

Parva yawned and was visibly strained by the conversation. Daggit squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead, "I have to report for duty and then I'll be back."

"S'kay." Parva slurred as she drifted off back to sleep.

Kort ushered Daggit and the EMH over to his desk, "It's as bad as I feared."

"So far it seems mild." Daggit opined.

"We still do not know the totality of her recall. What remains of her skill sets? Is she essentially an oversized child or does she recall enough of her adult life to be adequately prepared for daily life? One things for certain, between her cardiac condition and her memory loss, she's off of this ship's crew." Kort conjectured.

"Is that fair?" Daggit replied hotly, "What if she can function?"

"Her heart won't allow it." Kort shook his head, "Her memory is secondary. She can be retaught. Her heart, however, can't withstand the pressures of a crisis. And we all know how many crises this ship faces."

Daggit subsided, "But she can rebuild her life?"

"She can rebuild _a _life." Kort clarified, "It'll never be the same as it was."

Daggit squared his shoulders, "Then we'll just have to make the best of it."

Kort squeezed his shoulder, "Good man."

"Unfortunately, I have to report to the bridge." Daggit said ruefully.

"Go." Kort urged, "We'll watch Parva."

Daggit left and Kort turned to the EMH, "Would you mind explaining why you're on and why you have a bruise and a split lip."

The EMH explained the situation and Kort's visage grew darker, "It seems we owe a debt of gratitude to Joachim Dracas."

"I pulled his examination results." the EMH revealed, "Does he know his cellular structure is unstable?"

"Not yet." Kort admitted gloomily, "That's why I wanted to talk to him. His condition can be treated but it must be done swiftly or it will be too late."

"He has seventy-two hours before it's irreversible." The EMH added.

"I know." Kort closed his eyes, "Contact him. Tell him he is being ordered to Sickbay. Request that Security be there to escort him."

"Yes, Doctor."

"As soon as that's down, I'll reset your program so that your wounds will be erased." Kort offered, "Afterwards I'll have T'Kir encrypt your files."

"Thank you." The EMH, "Do you think that I could also be left on during my entire shift and my deactivation sequence be password protected, known only by you?"

"T'Kir would know it as well." Kort chuckled, "Nothing on a computer can be hidden from her."

"That's fine." the EMH replied and then hesitated, "And could I adopt a name? To sound more human that is."

"Certainly." Kort conceded, "Do you have a name already picked out?"

"I have a few thoughts." the EMH confided.

"Well, good luck." Kort wished, "Now if you could contact Dracas."

"Of course." The EMH replied and opened a comm circuit to Security. After she was done speaking with Radil, she contacted Dracas directly. He wasn't happy and she doubted he would willingly come in.

* * *

"Go Hannah!" Riker urged from beside Macen's seat. Daggit had just arrived and relieved Shannon Forger. T'Kir was at OPS and Danan was at Science where she belonged. Grace threw the _Obsidian _into full impulse and drove the ship out of Iotian orbit. The _Enterprise _and her two _Miranda_-class cousins were engaging three of the seven Iotian starships racing into the system. That left four for the Federation science ship and the orbital headquarters of the Iotian Starfleet.

Riker's plan was simple. He would manoeuvre the _Obsidian _around the attacking ships, laying down suppressive fire to keep them from attacking the station. The station, meanwhile, could bring its phaser banks and torpedo launchers to bear and thrash the raiders.

The entire plan depended upon a superhuman starship pilot and they had one in the form of Hannah Grace. Her augmented reflexes and situational awareness would be put to the test today. Grace relished the challenge and pushed the ship as hard as she could go towards the oncoming ships.

The _Obsidian _made a near pass of the lead Iotian raider. It was a _Constitution_-class starship. The Iotian ship didn't have enough time to lock phasers on the passing privateer ship. The _Obsidian_, however, raked the Iotian starship with her Type X phasers.

As the surveyor approached the next ship, a _Mercury_-class cruiser, it fired its Type V phasers at her. The _Obsidian's _shields shrugged off the energy assault and Grace corkscrewed around the ship. Daggit bombarded the ship with phaser fire as the surveyor outfoxed the Iotian's defences.

Daggit unleashed the ship's twin torpedo launchers at the two _Mercury_-class ships coming in on a parallel course. Grace kicked the speed up again and the _Obsidian _made a high velocity run between the two ships. Upon clearing those two ships, the crew learned the _Constitution _and original _Mercury_-class had come about and were coming back for a second chance at the _Nova_-class science ship.

In the interim, the space station had pummelled them but they had refused to return fire. There was some trace of honour remaining in them after all. Now if they could just be convinced to not fire upon the Outbound Ventures ship life would be grand.

The second set of _Mercuries_ had no such compunction to spare their fellow Starfleet officers. They opened fire on the station even as it began firing upon them. Grace hurried back. The other two Iotian ships had them in a crossfire.

Half the Iotians' shots were missing but those that struck scored against the shields. Daggit reported that the shields were already at 75%. Macen called down to Engineering and requested that damage control teams be dispatched to reset the overloaded shield generators. Gilan complied. Dracas had already been hauled off to Sickbay by Security.

The truth of the matter was that ever since Dracas left Engineering, things had progressively gotten worse. Dracas had been holding everything and everyone together. Without his influence, things were falling apart.

"Both the impulse reactor and the warp core are steadily losing power." Lawson reported from his station.

Macen called Gilan, "What's happening down there?"

"We need Dracas." Gilan pleaded, "His touch on the warp core was the only thing stabilising it until the annihilation reaction normalises."

"What about the impulse reactor?" Macen asked.

"All my engineers are busy with the warp core or on damage control teams." Gilan reported.

"Where's Dracas?" Macen pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Security dropped by and took him to Sickbay."

"A Security escort to go to Sickbay?" Macen asked in disbelief, "Never mind. I'll deal with the situation and get Dracas back to you."

"Thank you, sir."

"Kort," Macen asked wearily, "what the hell are you doing with Joachim?"

"Saving his life." Kort gruffly replied.

"It's that serious?"

"It's that serious." Kort confirmed.

"How long will it be before he's fit to return to duty?"

"At least an hour and a half."

"We may be dead by then."

"It won't be my fault."

Macen held his breath before asking, "If I ordered you to return him to duty?"

"I outrank you on medical matters." Kort snapped, "He stays."

"Just get him on his feet ASAP." Macen relented.

"You have my word."

Macen closed the connection and turned to Riker, who wore a sour expression.

"We may be in trouble." Macen said calmly.

"No kidding." Riker groused.


	21. Chapter 21

The _Obsidian_ exchanged fire with the two attacking Iotian starships. She spiralled between them. Her phaser fire struck its targets. The Iotians' fixed mount phaser array was unable to track the UFP ship.

Having passed the two imminent threats, the surveyor loosed four torpedoes, two each for the ships engaging the Iotian Starfleet HQ. The torpedoes caught the broadsides of each ship. Visible damage was inflicted. Daggit repeated the volley and the starships staggered. The _Obsidian_ shuddered as phaser fire pummelled her aft shields.

Grace flipped the ship over and Daggit rapidly fired eight torpedoes, four for each ship. He followed this up with multiple phaser blasts. The Iotian ships halted their advance and Riker yelled, "Now!"

Grace settled the privateer vessel right between the two stricken Iotian ships and Daggit unleashed the phaser arrays on the engineering hulls of the two Iotians. Their shields, already fluctuating, collapsed completely. Within moments, the bridge was receiving urgent hails from the two Iotian commanders.

"Put them on screen, T'Kir." Macen commanded.

Each Iotian captain appeared alongside the other. Both looked panic stricken.

"I'm Brin Macen, Captain of the UFP starship _Obsidian_. I will now accept your surrender." Macen informed them.

"Please," one of the Iotians pleaded, "We're down to just the batteries. If you attack us again, we'll lose life support."

The female captain was more composed, "I offer terms of surrender."

"No terms." Macen replied, "Unconditional surrender or absolute destruction."

She pondered this ultimatum while her compatriot whimpered. Finally, she nodded, "I accept, on behalf of both our ships."

"Can you get your comrade to agree?" Macen enquired.

"He's crippled." the female captain replied, "Besides, he's weak. He'll follow whatever example I set…except to fight."

"Then can you persuade the crews of the ship fighting the station to surrender?" Macen asked.

"Possibly." the woman replied warily, "Why?"

"If they're still engaging the station by the time my ship reaches them, they'll be destroyed with no quarter given."

The woman's eyes narrowed, "You're a hard man, Captain. I can see why Solarian Security Systems wants you dead."

"And how would you know that?" Macen wondered.

"This is the second time I've engaged you, Captain." the Iotian grinned ruefully, "You left me damaged last time but nothing to compare with this turn of events."

"I suggest you signal your comrades." Macen urged, "It could save their lives."

Macen terminated the signal and turned to T'Kir, "They are crippled aren't they?"

"They're both on batteries and trying to get auxiliary power back on line." T'Kir reported.

"Once they get auxiliary power back, could they pose a threat?"

Danan shook her head, "They could possibly fire their phasers a few times or activate the self destruct sequence but that's about it. They've perfectly duplicated Federation technology. That includes its weaknesses."

"Thanks Lees." Macen acknowledged, "Let's hope you're right."

"It doesn't look like they're going for it." Riker noted as the _Obsidian_ closed into weapons range.

"Dammit." Macen muttered, "Where's Scipio and his Romans?"

"Brin!" T'Kir called out, "I have multiple bogeys inbound for the inner system. They appear to be the Roman starships.

"On screen." Macen and Riker ordered in unison.

Six Eagle-class scoutships could be seen escorting six _Banner_-class assault ships. The _Eagles_ opened fire on the three Iotian raiders attacking the _Enterprise_ and the surviving, but crippled, _Miranda_. Heavy phaser barrages from the _Banner_- class warships finished off these ships.

The two _Mercury_-class starships engaging the station hailed the invading Roman forces and immediately surrendered. Scipio hailed Macen.

"Greetings Commander," Scipio placed his fist over his heart, "You seem to have accounted for yourself this day."

"Just a little space combat and overthrowing a President." Macen replied nonchalantly, "Nothing much."

Scipio's lips curled into a wry smile, "So, once again you have been empire building."

Macen wanted to protest but he knew Scipio had him, "The Hereditary President's heir is being put back into office. A regent will be elected to watch over him until he achieves his majority."

"It sounds nice and tidy but you still altered the course of a sovereign planet's development." Scipio grinned now, "What would your Federation say about your violating their most sacred law?"

Macen knew exactly what the Council of Five would say about it, that and the court-martial tribunal they'd call. It didn't quite seem fair. Starfleet had only opted to reactivate his crew's commissions for just such an event. This way they could all be thrown into the stockade on Jaros II together.

Macen had been quite happy to forgo his former Starfleet rank. It had its uses but now he was beginning to see drawbacks as well. He sighed as he wondered how he was going to talk himself out of this one. The only thing he had going for him was that the Iotian Internal Affairs Division had requested his aid. That would be the cornerstone of his defence.

"Dinar for your thoughts?" Scipio chuckled.

"Just wondering how I would explain this to my employers." Macen admitted.

"They weren't expecting you to fight a private war?" Scipio asked.

"Not exactly." Macen asked with a rueful cast to his voice.

"Your actions have been honourable." Scipio opined, "The Emperor will speak on your behalf. Never fear."

Macen could see getting condemned over involving the Nova Romans as well. Despite their forays into interstellar flight, the Council of Five still considered them a quarantined planet, all contact between UFP personnel and the inhabitants of Magna Roma strictly forbidden. Macen's prior contact with the Romans had been at the Council's behest. This time it had been at his whim. He got a headache imagining the firestorm awaiting him at home.

"Never fear, Commander." Scipio's cheerfulness was annoying, "These things work out for the best."

"We'll see." Macen hedged.

* * *

"You what?" Drake's face was red as she shouted into the comm pick up.

"I enlisted the help of the Nova Romans and brought them with me to Iotian space." Macen repeated.

"My God." Drake breathed, "It sounds just as bad the second time through."

"There's more." Macen warned.

Drake's head sunk onto her desk, "Please let it end soon."

"The Iotian Starfleet's Internal Affairs Division was eager to hear our case and to assist us. Unfortunately their chief suspect was the High Admiral Oxmyx, the C-in-C of their Starfleet."

"That shouldn't have been a problem, especially not with a hacker of T'Kir's capabilities." Drake replied.

"Yes, but the criminal alliance between Solarian and the Iotians began _after_ Oxmyx staged a coup and assumed the Presidency." Macen explained.

"Please tell me you didn't overthrow a sovereign government." Drake pinched the tip of her nose.

"We assisted the IA in restoring the rightful heir to the Presidency to office and in capturing Oxmyx for the crimes of treason and conspiracy to commit piracy." Macen described.

"Brin," Drake bemoaned, "you toppled a government."

"I also have all the proof linking Oxmyx to the raids conducted by the Iotians." Macen added, "I also have the links between Oxmyx and representatives of Solarian Security Systems that hired him to conduct these acts of piracy. Each time it occurred, the victim was a potential client of Solarian's. It seems these attacks pushed them into hiring Solarian for protection."

"Why weren't the Iotians trying to get their business?" Drake wondered.

"The trade routes were too far within UFP space for the Iotians to mount a self supporting protective detail but it was just close enough to Iotia to mount a hit and run raid. The Iotian captains and crews got to keep whatever plunder they acquired."

"Good work on the investigation." Drake relented, "I'm staying quiet on the rest until an investigation deems it necessary to try you or acquit you. I'm sending the _USS Intrepid_ to help mop up these events. Admiral Johnson can investigate the Iotian and Roman angles to the case and recommend to the Council whether or not we should prosecute."

Macen smiled, "Of course."

"And don't just stand there grinning. Johnson doesn't owe you anything for getting him out of that Cell 51 detention facility." Drake warned.

"Of course not." Macen grinned.

"He'll be perfectly frank and will examine the evidence impartially."

"That's what I'm counting on." Macen continued to grin.

"Oh," Drake fumed, "you're hopeless. What's your current status?"

"Thanks to a combined effort by the Iotians, the Romans and ourselves, we've captured or destroyed every one of the suspected Iotian raiders." Macen reported.

"Destroyed?" Drake asked flatly.

"Some of the Roman crews were a little enthusiastic." Macen replied.

"Romans." Drake shuddered, "Based upon your last report, they seem rather uncivilised."

"Don't forget that a great deal of your planet's civilisation was based upon Roman legal traditions." Macen countered, "I've taken one of them aboard my ship and made him my Chief Engineer."

"Are you insane?" Drake demanded.

"Parva's been critically wounded. She'll never be able to perform her duties again." Macen explained.

"But a Roman?"

"This Roman is a clone of Hal Dracas." Macen described, "He was looking for a sense of personal identity. I think he's finding it aboard this ship. He helped stave of a mutiny attempt by Solarian saboteurs and he's taken to his new duties with a relish."

"Is he qualified?" Drake had to know.

"He passed all of Starfleet's engineering tests with perfect scores." Macen revealed, "And that was before he studied the tech manuals."

"How is this possible?" Drake wondered, "Your reports listed the Roman ships as being 22nd century analogues."

"Their new _Banner_-class ships are 24th century equivalents. In fact they may be more advanced than the _Luna_-class explorers." Macen disclosed.

"That's very disturbing." Drake fretted.

"The technology was a parting gift from the Omicron." Macen explained, "It just took them the last six years to incorporate it into a viable system."

Drake's eyebrows raised, "And you would know this how?"

"Conversations with the Roman Emperor Alaric and with Joachim Dracas." Macen answered.

"So the clone shares his predecessors surname." Drake mused.

"By choice." Macen clarified, "After reading about Hal, Joachim wanted to carry on his legacy."

"It could be a convenient lie." Drake warned.

"It's pretty hard to lie to an empath," Macen countered, "especially one backed by a first rate telepath."

"So," Drake sighed, "where is this 'Dracas' now?"

"In Engineering." Macen supplied, "He'd had to cold start the warp core but hadn't been allowed to stay to oversee the stabilisation of the annihilation reaction."

"Why?"

"Kort detected some anomalies in his genetic structure." Macen explained, "He was an imperfect clone. He soon would have started displaying congenital defects that would have ended his life. It's an error endemic to the Roman cloning process. We've alerted the Roman fleet commander, Titus Scipio. He's transmitting the details home as we speak."

"I'm assuming the Romans want to use their clones as soldiers." Drake remarked dryly.

"They do." Macen replied.

"The thought of cloned Roman Legions marching across the stars doesn't comfort me." Drake admitted, "Perhaps it would have been better if you hadn't mentioned Kort's treatment to them."

"They're not up to genetic resequencing on the scale that Kort implemented." Macen revealed, "It'll be a decade or more before they can treat their first batch of clones much less eliminate the defects out of their cloning facilities."

"This would be so much simpler if you'd held to the quarantine and not reinitiated contact with them." Drake sighed, "Now we have to make contact. They've progressed too far and pose to great of a potential threat. I just hope Robert is up to the job."

Admiral Robert Tavar Johnson was a member of the Council of Five as well as being Starfleet's liaison with the Federation Diplomatic Corps. He was fully credentialed as an ambassador in his own right. The _Intrepid_ was his flagship. It seemed over the last year and a half that Macen's SID team and Johnson's crew had become tightly woven together, assisting each other in moments of need.

"Robert's a good man." Macen offered, "If anyone can strike a bargain with the Iotians and the Romans, it'll be him."

Drake snorted, "I'll pass along your compliments."

"Admiral," Macen paused, "the reason I was calling was to get permission to pursue the Solarian angle to this."

"The _Intrepid_ will resolve the Solarian situation at their Operations Centre." Drake informed him, "I will personally handle things at their Earth based headquarters. My computer engineers aren't T'Kir but they're still awfully damned good."

"Johnson doesn't know what he's walking into." Macen argued, "That entire system will be a trap."

"And you can make the difference needed to overcome this diabolical scheme?"

"Maybe." Macen replied with conviction.

"Okay." Drake relented, "I know better than to argue with you when you're like this. Maybe you're getting some vibe off these 'Currents' you keep talking about. All I know is you never obey orders when you get this way and you're always proven right."

Drake focused her eyes on Macen's image, "Don't take the law into your own hands. I'll give you the approximate time and date of the _Intrepid's _arrival. Don't take matters into your own hands until they arrive."

"And then I'll take matters into my own hands." Macen grinned victoriously, "Gotcha."

The screen went dark and Drake used a word admirals weren't supposed to know. Macen was going off half-cocked again. He'd had clear parameters for his investigation and look how he'd bollixed that up. Drake was almost afraid to send him out on missions these days. His adventures during the Federation's recent civil disturbances were hair raising at best.

Those had been difficult days when the entire fleet was taking chances. Macen just seemed to take more chances than most. Johnson had been branded an outlaw and Macen seemed determined to do the same. Macen didn't even have the cover of being an active officer and had been branded a pirate. In a worst case scenario, he and his entire crew would have been executed.

As always, Drake wished him luck and said a prayer that her sister would come out all right.

* * *

T'Kir looked across Macen's desk from the couch where she was curled up, "She seemed more unhappy than normal."

"Our incursion into Roman territory six years ago set a dangerous precedent." Macen thought aloud, "That pales in comparison with my recruiting them for this mission. Starfleet has to deal with the Iotian crisis which in turn means it has to recognise the Romans' involvement with it. That'll mean recognising the Romans and ending over a hundred years of secrecy around them."

"Sounds like it about time to me." T'Kir asserted.

"Perhaps." Macen mused, "But secrets have a tendency to breed other secrets. I wonder just what we've unravelled here."

"You can bet it'll lead to Section 31." T'Kir quipped.

"Or even a remnant of Cell 51." Macen referred to the rogue splinter group formed out of S31.

"I'd kinda been hopin' to have seen the last of `em." T'Kir drawled.

"Me too." Macen admitted then hesitated, "Why don't we check on Parva?"

"Sounds good." T'Kir unfurled from the couch.

Macen shook his head, "I don't know how you do that."

"Its easy." she smirked and pinched his butt, "You simply tuck _here_, bend _there_, and curl _this_. Easy as pie."

Macen rubbed where she'd pinched and tickled, "What do you know about pie? You always replicate yours."

"D'you want a smackdown?" T'Kir laughed, "I know plenty about pie."

"Prove it." Macen grinned.

"The fruit goes in the crust…end of story." T'Kir jutted her jaw.

Macen kissed her, "Sounds about right to me."

"Then why are you giving me a hard time?" she asked as the Ready Room door opened.

* * *

"Argghh." Parva growled in frustration and tossed the padd aside, "I should know this. I _know _I know this it's just trapped somewhere inside."

Daggit picked up the engineering primer. She'd only answered the most basic of questions and that had largely been guesswork. He handed the padd to the EMH who substituted it for another. Daggit gave it a cursory review.

"How about a little face and name recognition?" Daggit asked cheerfully, "The padd will show you a face. Then you give that person's name, or what they do, or whatever you remember about them. If you get stuck, I can help you."

Parva smiled at him and he leaned in to see from over her head. The first face appeared and Parva frowned.

"I know her." she related, "It's like I know everything about her but her name escapes me."

"That's you." Daggit nudged her, "That's Parva."

"I'm beautiful." Parva remarked.

"I certainly think so." Daggit replied.

Parva leaned back and looked up. She wore a beatific smile, "Hey you."

Daggit leaned down and kissed her. The kiss lingered for several minutes before the EMH cleared her throat. Daggit seemed somewhat chastened but Parva was unrepentant. She stuck her tongue out at the hologram.

The EMH's cheeks coloured and she bustled off. Parva looked up at Daggit, "You're sure she's not real?"

Daggit's eyes narrowed and he replied with, "She certainly seems real enough."

Sickbay's doors opened and Macen and T'Kir strolled in, holding hands.

"You…you're Macen." Parva said as Macen approached her bed.

Macen nodded, "My full name is _Brin _Macen, but you never called me that."

"You're the Captain of the ship." Parva continued and then her eyes widened, "We're _in _a ship."

"That's right." Macen grinned, "Can you tell me which ship it is?"

Parva frowned, "No. I can't. I know it's yours though."

Macen squeezed her hand, "It's a start." he pointed at T'Kir, "Do you remember her?"

Parva brightened as she looked to the other side of her bed, "She's T'Kir. You love her like Rab loves me."

"That's putting it mildly." Macen remarked, "Do you know what she can do?"

"Something with computers?" Parva ventured.

"True." Macen nodded, "She can also read minds."

Parva looked over at T'Kir, "Is this true?"

"Yup." T'Kir affirmed.

"Could you read my mind and fix me?" Parva asked, voice bounding with hope.

"Sorry, Honey," T'Kir squeezed her hand, "all I can do is make it better. You'll still have gaps in your memory."

"Anything would be better." Parva sighed, "Will you help me?"

"Of course." T'Kir gathered up both of Parva's hands in hers and closed her eyes.

"What's going on here?" The EMH demanded.

"Just a mind meld to defragment Parva's remaining memories." Macen calmly explained.

"This must stop!" The EMH insisted.

Macen drew his pistol and aimed it at the computer housing the EMH program, "Interfere and I'll delete your program."

The EMH huffed, "I'll have to call Doctor Kort."

"Do what you need to." Macen told her, "This procedure goes ahead unfettered."

_Your mind is fractured too. _a surprised Parva thought.

_More than you know._ T'Kir admitted.

_Can you help me?_

_I put myself back together with Brin's help. _T'Kir described, _I'm fairly certain I can help you_.

_Brin is Captain Macen, correct? _Parva asked with childlike innocence.

_I like him._

_ You didn't always like him in the past._ T'Kir felt obliged to point out.

_Too bad. He seems very nice._

_ I think so. _T'Kir commented, _Now relax. We have to go through your memory and see what you can remember. _All_ of it._


	22. Chapter 22

79

"You're what?" a flabbergasted Kort demanded.

"I'm ending our relationship." Radil answered, "At least the more committed aspects of our relationship. I'd still like to have a casual connection with you."

"Jenrya, I'm a _Klingon_." Kort growled, "Our relationship is as casual as I get."

"Are you sure you don't want to discuss this in private?" Radil asked, eying the milling spectators.

"You ambushed me with this in public, we'll discuss it publicly." Kort declared.

Radil heaved her shoulders, "All right then."

"Jenrya," Kort tried a soothing tone, "I know you're afraid of commitment. I've tried to be patient with you as you worked through your fears…"

"That's just it!" Radil spread her arms wide, "I'm not afraid of commitment. I'm afraid of committing to you."

"What did you say?" Kort's eyes narrowed.

"Kort, you're stifling. You approach relationships the Klingon way, all tradition and rigid rules of conduct. I'm a Bajoran. A millennia of experience has shown us that romance is organic. It takes two partners, approaching with similar expectations to make it work."

Radil placed her fists on her hips, "We don't even agree in the bedroom."

There were titters of laughter at that and Kort yelled at the assembled crewmen, "Get out of here!"

Kort wheeled on Radil, "Has it been so unbearable?"

"No." she said softly, "You've been rather sweet, in your own way. I just need a different way."

"A way like Rab Daggit?" Kort snarled.

"Rab's spoken for." Radil reminded him, "I have to find my own path."

"Good luck with that." Kort started to storm off when his comm badge chirped. He slapped it with all his might and yelled, "What?"

The much abused EMH tentatively spoke, "Doctor, T'Kir is here. She performing a mind meld on the patient in order to realign her memory."

"I'm on my way." Kort thundered and stalked off.

Radil lingered in the corridor as traffic began to resume. She felt badly about how things had gone but they'd needed to be said. She merely hoped Kort wouldn't resume his drinking ways. The last thing the crew and the SID team needed was an alcoholic for a Chief Medical Officer.

* * *

"What's going on here?" Kort boomed as he stormed into Sickbay.

"Quietly Doctor or I'll be forced to stun you." Macen said quietly but with a firmness to rival duranium.

"What is _she _attempting then?" Kort asked in hushed tones.

"She's attempting to create new neural pathways and associations between Parva's existing memories."

"Has she done this before?"

"Not without my assistance." Macen revealed, "But the work we performed together formed the foundation of what she's attempting now."

"Are you saying that you two did this for T'Kir herself?" Kort was astounded.

Macen nodded, "When she came back from the Andes Institute, T'Kir was lost. Her memories were overshadowed by those that she'd gleaned from hundreds of minds. She needed help finding her core self."

"And those other memories?" Kort was fascinated.

"Buried beneath her own but accessible when the need arises" Macen explained.

"And Parva?"

"Only has her own memories so this should be a straightforward task." Macen reassured the Doctor.

"How long have they been at it now?" Kort wondered.

"A little over twenty minutes." Macen answered.

"How long will it take?" Kort worried about straining Parva's heart.

"It took T'Kir and I two weeks of three hour sessions." Macen said, "Parva should be done in a single session. How long it'll take is a mystery."

"I take it you and Rab are staying as long as it takes?" Kort expected.

"Yes, of course." Macen replied.

"Would you like chairs?" Kort asked, "We keep a supply on hand for visitors."

"Thanks." Macen smiled, "They'd be appreciated."

* * *

_How d'you feel? _T'Kir asked.

_More complete._ Parva replied, _At least I know what I remember. Now I just have to find out how badly my ability to walk and hand-eye coordination fared._

_ Sorry I can't help with those. _T'Kir apologised.

_You've done enough._ Parva remarked, _I can't expect miracles._

_ They'd still come in handy once in awhile. _T'Kir quipped, _Ready to break the meld?_

_ Yes._

T'Kir unravelled their minds. It was a painless procedure but she could sense Parva's sudden bout with loneliness. It could be disconcerting to have another mind interlinked with yours for a time and then disappear. She was suddenly grateful for her link with Macen.

T'Kir took a deep breath, opened her eyes and looked around. Macen was already on his feet and had his arms wrapped around her. She leaned back and revelled in his embrace.

Parva received a more cautious reception as he eyes fluttered open. Daggit bent down and kissed her.

"Oh, for Elements sake Rab!" T'Kir chastised him, "You're not going to break her. Kiss her like you mean it!"

Daggit grinned and then kissed her much more passionately.

Parva grinned, "Now _that_ I remember."

"I could help you remember a few other things." Daggit wore a suggestive smile.

"Later." Parva sighed, "Let's find out how badly damaged I am first."

"That will take time." Kort said as he approached, "Do you have the patience for it?"

"I'll have to." Parva replied pragmatically.

"Then, how would you like to get out of that bed?" Kort asked, "I'd like to run a few tests and then you can get back to your memory exercises."

"Sounds good." Parva brightened despite Daggit's apparent misgivings, "When do we begin?"

"Now is as good a time as any." Kort replied.

"I think we'll leave." Macen announced.

Parva looked to T'Kir, "Do you have to leave as well."

"I should." T'Kir admitted, "I'm desperately tired and you want some privacy."

"Were we close before?" Parva asked.

"No." T'Kir responded truthfully, "But we'll be much closer now."

"Good." Parva insisted.

"Now step lightly." Kort urged. Daggit held on to Parva, supporting her as she swung her legs out from the bed. Her feet dangled above the floor and she pushed off the bed. Her legs held for a second and then buckled.

Daggit caught her and swept her up in his arms. Parva began to cry, "I'm crippled."

"No." Kort insisted, "Your brain has merely forgotten how to use them. We can reteach it to use the limbs."

"Is that why my arms work?" Parva asked.

"We still haven't tested how well your arms and hands work but yes, they appear to work because that neural pathway wasn't damaged." Kort explained.

"Let's try some motor skills tests and then resume our memory drills." Kort suggested. Parva gratefully relented. Her motor skills tests revealed a difficulty using her right hand but her left was fine. Being naturally right handed, this was an inconvenience but an easily surmounted one.

After that battery of tests was done, Parva begged off any more, "I'm really tired. Can I just sleep?"

"Of course." Kort agreed, "Let me give you something to help you rest."

Parva dozed off immediately after her injection. Kort cast a worried eye over Daggit, "Do you require a sedative as well?"

"No." Daggit wearily replied, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Kort asserted, "You don't lie very well, Rab. You're being consumed by guilt. In retrospect, there was little else you could have done. I let my zeal overwhelm me and I apologise for what I said."

"Thank you." Daggit said, "But it was still my fault. I should have cleared that room."

"You're not perfect." Kort responded, "You can't foresee every contingency."

"When I'm in that mode, I do." Daggit insisted.

"It seems to me you need to talk to Danan." Kort suggested, "She's the closest thing to a counsellor that we have."

"Thanks, but I'm fine." Daggit protested.

"You're relieved of duty until you talk to her." Kort informed him, "See her. That's an order from your CMO."

"Fine." Daggit growled and stalked out of the room.

Kort sat down to record the event in his log and he thought for a moment that the work was distracting him from his own disintegrating personal life. He needed to talk to Danan himself before he sought solace in a drink.

* * *

Before retiring for the evening, T'Kir asked Macen, "What do you think of Parva?"

"Her emotions are distraught, which is normal for a case like this." Macen answered.

"Do you think she'll ever resume her duties?" T'Kir enquired.

"You read her mind." Macen replied, "What do you think?"

"She could be retaught the technical aspects of her job." T'Kir insisted.

"But she couldn't physically withstand the stresses of the job." Macen countered, "Not without a heart transplant."

"So when can we do that?" T'Kir demanded.

"That's where it gets tricky." Macen explained, "Orions, as a society, believe in survival of the fittest. They don't subscribe to the theory that artificial organs and limbs can make a person whole. They feel that person should be left as they were to survive, or die, on their own."

"That's so…so…_frinxed_!" T'Kir yelled.

Macen held up his hands, "Peace. It's not my philosophy but it may be Parva's."

"If she remembers it." T'Kir said.

"That's the mystery." Macen replied in turn.

"What's your take on Rab?" she asked.

"He blames himself." Macen divulged, "If he doesn't lighten up on himself soon, he's going to be paralysed by his feelings of responsibility."

"That's what I got too." T'Kir affirmed, "Anything we can do about it?"

"Not yet." Macen shrugged, "Kort has to take point on this one."

"You're sure Kort's up for it?" T'Kir asked pointedly.

"Why?" Macen was confused, "Is there something I should be aware of?"

"Radil broke up with Kort." T'Kir answered, "In the middle of corridor two on Deck Five."

"You're sure the replicators are locked down from giving him alcohol?" Macen sighed.

"Yup." T'Kir nodded, "Did it myself."

"Lock everyone out." Macen ordered, "The last thing he needs is a 'helpful' shoulder to cry on."

"I'll do it before I go to bed." T'Kir promised.

"Damn." Macen muttered, "It's just one thing after the other."

* * *

The _Obsidian_ was in orbit over Iotia. She'd hung there for the last fourteen hours while all the combat officers got at least eight hours of rest. Daggit began the day in the gym. Afterwards, he had a hearty breakfast. Next, he spent two hours on the target range. He used mobile target drones.

Finally, Danan paged him. Reluctantly, Daggit reported to the small office that she had in her additional duties as ship's counsellor. To be fair, one of her previous hosts had been a psychologist, not Lisea. It was the closest thing the crew had so her days were divided between the science labs and her burgeoning practice.

Daggit entered the office and found a desk in the corner of the room. Two chairs were set in the middle of the room. One had an endtable beside it. The other, a loveseat, was unaccompanied.

Danan was already seated in a chair and she motioned for Daggit to place himself in the loveseat, "You can have a seat, Rab, or you can remain standing. Whichever makes you the more comfortable is the path to follow."

Daggit plopped down into the loveseat and growled, "And that's what this is really about isn't? Whatever's easy is the path to choose."

Danan held a finger to her lips and then spoke, "I was going to address your lingering guilt over the operation where Parva got hurt but if you want to discuss your ongoing desire to abandon her, that's fine with me."

"I do not wish to abandon Parva." Daggit snarled.

"Yes, you do." Danan replied calmly and certainly, "She's no longer the woman you fell in love with so your natural inclination is to leave her and start over."

Tears welled up in Daggit's eyes and he choked out, "How did you know?"

"From the case experience of millions of people in your current position." Danan remarked, "You're not alone. Millions have undergone the same drastic changes to their relationship and one thing always proved certain."

"What's that?" Despite his grief, Daggit was intrigued.

"If you're going to leave, now's the time to do it…before she becomes dependent upon you." Danan said.

"It's too late for that." Daggit remarked, "Besides, despite our never having made a formal commitment, it was 'For Better or For Worse' for me."

Danan smiled, "I'm glad to hear it. That should resolve that particular difficulty."

Daggit hesitantly nodded, "Somehow getting it out in the open has helped clarify the matter."

Danan's smile grew brighter, "That's my job. Now, about the assault in the Presidential Mansion…"

* * *

Macen and T'Kir finished their late breakfasts and headed for the bridge. Grace was already there as was Riker. T'Kir stood on tippy toes.

"Can I, can I, can I?" she pleaded.

"Go." Macen relented and T'Kir bounded down to the helm to talk to Grace.

Riker observed this with some amusement and then Macen approached, "Tom, can we talk?"

Riker alerted T'Kir that she was now the officer of the watch, which didn't earn him a single reply. Macen nodded, "She understands. Let's go."

Macen led Riker into his Ready Room. Riker naturally took one of the chairs before Macen's desk while Macen went straight for the replicator, "Can I offer you something?"

"Please," Riker brightened, "I haven't had my caffeine quota for the day yet."

"Coffee or _raktajino_?" Macen enquired.

"Let's stick with coffee, a dark roast with a touch of Irish cream." Riker requested.

"I'm really dragging." Macen bemoaned and ordered a _raktajino _with vanilla. Macen doled out the drinks as they appeared and then sat down.

"I can't remember the last time we had a conversation where we observed the niceties." Riker admitted.

"There for awhile, there wasn't enough goodwill between us to bother with the niceties." Macen observed.

"I've said it before but I'll say it again." Riker began, "I'm sorry…"

"There's no need to apologise further, Tom." Macen interrupted, "It was both of us. It's time to move on."

"Speaking of moving on," Riker sipped his coffee, "are you really thinking of stepping down as Captain and handing things over to me?"

"Not in the way you think." Macen warned, "I want you to assume the role of captain, but more like the role of flag captain. I'd still remain as Mission Commander and overseeing what you do."

"So you'd become _Admiral _Macen." Riker grinned, "And I'd be _Captain_ Riker."

"No, Tom." Macen shook his head sadly, "I'd remain _Captain_ Macen and you'd still be _Commander_ Riker."

"But why?" Riker demanded, "If I'm doing the work, why not the recognition?"

"Because, ultimately, I'd still be Captain of this vessel. You'd just oversee more elements of it than you already do."

"And the only way out of it is to accept a command of my own." Riker grumped.

"You could just say 'No'." Macen said dryly, "I just thought you might enjoy the extra challenges."

"Let's just leave things as they are and I'll get back to you if I want any more challenges." Riker decided.

"Fair enough." Macen agreed, "Now tell me about the battle and the saboteurs."

* * *

"So you distracted him with the rifle and took the head shot?" T'Kir asked.

Grace nodded, "He stared at me for half a second, like he knew the end was coming."

"He probably did." T'Kir commented, "He saw the resolve in your eyes and he knew that you weren't going to waste another shot on his vest. Head shots, even on heavy stun, are generally lethal."

T'Kir studied her friend, "How d'you feel?"

Grace shrugged, "Okay, I guess. I did what needed to be done and I have a minimum of regrets."

"Good girl." T'Kir squeezed Grace's arm, "You always want to know what a field op is like. Now you know."

"Moments of panic strung together by ugly necessity." Grace opined.

"Ain't it the truth?" T'Kir grinned.

"It's not much different from vessel to vessel combat, except that you see the faces of your victims." Grace commented, "In space, you can kill thousands without ever seeing a corpse."

"Statistically, that's incorrect." T'Kir replied, "Failing bulkheads, hull breaches and malfunctioning emergency forcefields all contribute to bodies in space."

"Don't be such a…Vulcan." Grace chastised, "They're just specks in the night. They aren't personalised."

"How can I not be a Vulcan?" T'Kir demanded, "I _am _a Vulcan."

"You wouldn't know it most of the time." Grace grumbled.

"Thank you." T'Kir beamed.

"And you can't be insulted." Grace complained.

"Not by you." T'Kir grinned.

"Oh God, I'm in hell." Grace dropped her head to her board.

"I'll leave you to your suffering." T'Kir said, "Want a _raktajino_?"

"Please." Grace mumbled.

"Coming right up." T'Kir promised her and moved off towards the replicator.

* * *

"Variables and unforeseen circumstances abound in combat." Danan was winding up her discussion with Daggit, "It isn't reasonable to expect yourself to account for every one and to prevent them all from occurring. In that way lies madness."

"You think I'm mad?" Daggit asked.

"I think you're driving yourself mad." Danan remarked, "If you can't derail this train of thought then you'll be no good to anyone, least of all Parva."

"I'll…I'll work on it." Daggit promised.

"Good." Danan said with relief, "That's a start. I want to see you again in two days from now. Same time and place. Your duty roster can be adjusted to allow you to come. I'll see to it."

"Thank you." Daggit said as he rose and accepted Danan's hand, "I mean it. I've been leery of psychoanalysts ever since the conditioning occurred on Angosia."

"I'm not trying to reprogram you Rab." Danan assured him, "I'm just trying to make you happier living with you. Now go see Parva, I'm sure she would be delighted."

"In two days then." Daggit tipped his head and exited the room and Danan wondered, once again, whether or not she should contact Tom Riker and tell him either to cool his jets or go away completely. She decided 'why wait?' and paged him.

* * *

Daggit walked into Sickbay to find the EMH, the nurse and medtech all gathered around Parva's bed laughing.

"What's up?" Daggit asked.

"Watch this!" Parva declared and then began wiggling her toes.

"How? When? Why?" Daggit stammered.

I remapped several of Parva's neural pathways this morning while she slept." The EMH explained, "She can walk with the use of braces."

"Want to see?" Parva eagerly asked and threw the covers back revealing the metal frameworks encapsulating her legs.

"I'd love to see you walk." Daggit said and moved into position to help her off the bed. He lifted her from underneath her arms and placed her on her feet. She wobbled a bit but she stood. The nurse and medtech clapped.

Parva took a few faltering steps and Daggit forced himself not to reach out and grab her. She walked across the length of Sickbay and then returned to her bed. She was slightly winded but exultant.

"I did it!" Parva exclaimed and then wrapped her arms around Daggit's neck and fiercely kissed him.

"I see part of your memory's back." Daggit grinned. He beamed proudly for her effort a moment before, "How is this possible?"

"The braces run off of the same neural pathways as the muscles themselves. While the muscles are being retrained, the braces pick up the slack and grant her mobility." The EMH explained.

"Tessa, why don't you tell him about your name?" Parva insisted.

"Well," the EMH looked embarrassed, "Parva wanted to know what to call me and I told her how I've been looking for a name. She dubbed me 'Tessa" and I think its going to stick."

"Well, Doctor Tessa, I'm grateful to you for your efforts." Daggit said sincerely.

"What's the point of being programmed with forty million medical references and papers if you can't make someone's life a little easier?" Tessa wondered.

"I was visited by a nice lady with spots." Parva announced, "I don't remember her name but she smelled nice. I remember that smell."

Daggit thought he would have to mention that to Danan during their next session. He'd grown jaded to Danan's scent but she did use a pleasant body oil that was quite fragrant.

"Rab?" Parva was holding a padd in her left hand. On it was a picture of a person, "Who is this?"

"Her name's Radil. Do you remember her?"

"I don't like her. She tries to steal men."

"On occasion I guess." Daggit conceded.

"She's tried to steal _you_, twice."

"But I'm still with you."

Parva looked up at him, studied him, and smiled, "You're still sad but you _are _here with me. I won't have to hurt this Radil…_yet_."

"Parva…I don't want to cheat on you."

Parva shook her head, "I'm not worried about you. _She's_ the troublemaker. She doesn't know what she wants."

Daggit studied Parva. In many ways, her reactions were childlike in their purity but they were stripped of the pretence adults used around one another. He found it refreshing.

"What?" she asked, watching him stare.

"I just love you." he bent and kissed her again.


	23. Chapter 23

93

Radil awoke feeling refreshed and light hearted. Part of it was due to the sleep. The other, more relevant, reason was her dealing with Kort yesterday. She'd regretted doing it in the middle of Deck Five but Kort had insisted on having it out right there so right there they'd stayed.

She went to breakfast and found Kort there. He excused himself from the table he was eating at and departed without a word to her. Radil had hoped for a smoother transition than this but she could deal. She had her breakfast and read the summary reports of yesterday's security fiasco.

Radil saw three errors. The first lay with the HQ outfit that initially vetted the new hires. Their primary allegiances should have been detected and by the Prophets they would be if she had to rescreen every applicant herself. Collins made the second mistake. She'd allowed unauthorised personnel to approach the Security Office without being challenged. The rest of the unit made the third mistake. They rushed in on the office, responding to the fake weapon's malfunction. Their concern overrode their situational awareness.

Radil blamed herself for the second and third items. She hadn't drilled it into their heads that they were in constant danger. In space or at port, threats loomed constantly. They were intended as the ship's first and last line of defence, not its first casualties.

Radil gathered up her padds, took a large travel mug of tea with her and proceeded to the main briefing room. All of the Security officers were present. She wanted to address them all before sending the gamma shift crew off to bed. Radil took a deep swallow of her tea and told them of her analysis of the preceding day's events.

Abby Collins looked like she was kicked in the gut but she seemed determined to roll with the punch. Radil opened the floor for feedback and the group honestly reviewed their actions and were contrite about their slump in vigilance.

"This has been good." Radil closed the meeting, "Expect a ton of new drills and more mandatory time at the range. Get to wherever you need to be."

"Where you off to, Chief?" Collins asked as they exited the briefing room.

"I'm off to run these reports by the Captain." Radil smiled, "Want to come?"

"No thanks." Collins almost managed a laugh, "The Captain already associates my face with one screw up. I don't want to become the poster child for the inept Security agent."

"Won't happen on my watch, Abby." Radil assured her, "I promise."

* * *

Radil arrived on the bridge to find T'Kir puttering away on some new project. Grace looked bored and subdued at the helm. Riker seemed distracted. The ratings at Tactical and Engineering paid her more attention than her teammates. Squaring her shoulders she went to the door leading to Macen's Ready Room.

She chimed the door and it immediately opened. Macen stood behind his desk, "I see you brought your own drink. Can I refresh your cup?"

"Earl Grey with milk and two sugars." Radil specified as she handed over her cup. Macen ordered her an identical cup and handed it over. He ordered another cup of coffee for himself. He sat down and studied her for a moment.

"Are you waiting for me to talk about Kort?" Radil suddenly blurted out.

Macen's eyebrows rose and he looked surprised, "No. Do you need to talk about Kort?"

"That's not why I'm here." Radil replied.

"Then let's stick with what you are here about." Macen suggested, "I believe you wanted to review the Security reports concerning the saboteurs?"

"Yessir." this was followed by a pause.

"Jenrya?"

"Yes?"

"I know you're a little distracted by personal matters," Macen commented, "but can we get underway?"

So Radil did…all the while cursing herself.

* * *

The door chimed and Macen instructed the computer to open the door. T'Kir bounded in.

"What are you doing in here?" Macen asked with suspicion.

"Do I need a reason to visit my husband?" she asked brightly.

"Yes." Macen replied, "You do."

"Radil was here." T'Kir said manically, "How was she? What was she like? How was she feeling? Does she miss Kort?"

"Take it off speed dial and take a breath." Macen laughed.

"What's speed dial?" T'Kir asked.

"Forget I said it." Macen replied, "What's on your mind Skipper, besides the Radil-Kort melodrama?"

"What else is there?" T'Kir demanded.

"Our departure for Thrandice and our imminent rendezvous with the _Intrepid_."

"And Thrandice is…?

"Solarian Security Systems' operations hub."

"Oh." T'Kir's head cocked to one side, "I guess that's important too."

"Thanks for that admission." Macen replied dryly.

"But it's still not as important as Radil and Kort." T'Kir insisted.

"If I give you a titbit, will you leave me alone?"

"I promise. You can plan your invasion in peace."

Macen was about to point out that it wasn't an invasion when he gave up, "What thoughts did you glean off of her when she came and went?"

"When she arrived she was full of confidence and thinking about nothing but security reports." T'Kir answered, "When she left she was mad at herself."

"That's because her confidence wavered while she was here." Macen explained, "She became defensive regarding Kort and grew distracted."

"That's it!" T'Kir shouted, "She still loves him."

"I doubt that." Macen remarked.

"Just you wait." T'Kir shook her fist, "I'll prove my theory."

"Don't get hurt." Macen called out as she departed. After a moment's consideration, he commed Radil and warned her of what was to come.

* * *

Kort faced Danan and remained completely silent. She waited for several minutes and finally said, "Most people come here to talk."

Faced with more silence, she changed her approach, "If I were you, I'd be dying for a drink right now."

"What would you know of it?" Kort's voice was dead.

"My third host acquired quite a taste for alcohol. Soon, she couldn't make it through the day without five or six drinks back to back. After awhile, she drank all day long in little increments."

"I'm surprised the Symbiosis Commission didn't have the symbiot removed."

"They did." Danan confirmed, "But by then the host was dying of liver damage so it wasn't a great loss. Anyway, every host since has fought that craving…that constant desire to lose oneself."

"You drink." Kort accused.

"Very carefully." Danan admitted, "I'm not her and hopefully I can control it."

"I can't." Kort said, "One drink and I crawl back into the abyss. I was doing fine. I wasn't counting every single day any more and then she did this too me."

"I'm assuming 'she' is Radil."

"So you've heard!" Kort accused.

"Gossip is the only thing that can exceed warp 10." Danan joked.

"It's not funny." Kort growled.

"Sorry, but I'm not sure what you want. You're barely talking." Danan revealed.

"I want you to stop me from drinking."

"I can't do that." Danan admitted, "Only you can prevent you from taking a drink."

"Damn." Kort grumped.

"Ain't life a bitch?" Danan tried out one of T'Kir's sayings.

Kort chuckled darkly, "It is indeed. Thank you for your time."

"Will I see you again?"

"Perhaps." Kort s replied with grim finality.

* * *

"How many of your troops are ready to deploy, Commander?" Macen asked Scipio.

"I have committed some of my forces to the Iotian inner system defence until they can reroute some cruisers to take up the slack." Scipio responded, "That leaves three _Banner_-class and three _Eagle_-class ships at your disposal."

"That should be enough." Macen commented with satisfaction, "Stand-by for the coordinates for a world called Thrandice."

"And what will we find here?" Scipio asked.

"The people that hired the Iotians to attack my ships." Macen said grimly.

"My troops are yours to command." Scipio pressed his fist against his heart, "We arte ready to deploy at a moment's notice."

"Strength and honour, Commander." Macen returned the salute.

"Warrior's luck to us all." Scipio added with a smile.

* * *

Macen exited the Ready Room and headed for the centre seat, "Hannah, transmit the coordinates of Thrandice to the Romans."

"Isn't Thrandice in Federation space?" Grace asked.

"Yup." Macen replied.

"Wait a minute!" Riker interjected, "You're leading Nova Romans _into _Federation space?"

"Think of it as an opportunity for First Contact." Macen said philosophically.

"What's Admiral Drake think of it?" Riker pointedly asked.

"She's sending the _Intrepid _to meet and greet the Romans." Macen bent the truth.

"As long as we're not getting into trouble again." Riker said ominously.

"Of course not." Macen patted Riker on the back and looked back at T'Kir. She winked and resumed working on her security upgrades.

* * *

The _Obsidian_ set out with the pride of the Roman Star Legions. Scipio deployed his ablest commanders and crews. Macen passed along all available knowledge of the Solarian fleet. Scipio was confident of victory.

"My _Banner_-class ships are marginally more capable than yours. We should overcome civilian craft easily enough." Scipio said as he and Macen toured Scipio's flagship, the _Reaper_.

A cowled human skeleton wielding a scythe was emblazoned on the ship's bridge. Macen asked its significance and Scipio laughed.

"We have Death for us. Who can stand against us?"

"The Fates control death and none may control them." Macen pointed out, "They may be influenced but their will is its own."

"Well said." Scipio smiled, "I think we have an understanding. I understand you can sense fate?"

Macen shook his head, "I can sense probabilities, what _may_ be and what is supposed to be when Fate goes awry."

"That is a rare gift." Scipio remarked.

"It's common amongst my people." Macen replied, "The difference is how greatly we hone it."

"Can others possess this trait?"

Macen nodded, "It's rare but it can be developed. I'm a practitioner of a philosophy known as the Seeker of Truth. The Seekers teach their pupils to quiet their minds and sense the ebb and flow of the Currents of the universe."

"This teaching must be brought to Magna Roma." Scipio insisted.

"And some day it will be." Macen promised, "I have other obligations now but the day is coming when I will gather students and teach them to Seek."

"When?"

Macen closed his eyes and then opened them again, "Sooner today then it was yesterday."

"Hard to see when you'll be free of your current obligations?" Scipio ventured.

"The man I've chosen to replace me as ship's captain is slow to step up to the responsibility. His doubts and fears weigh him down." Macen explained, "I haven't found someone to replace me as Mission Commander."

"But when you do?"

"Then I'll be free." Macen smiled.

* * *

"I 'heard' what you told Scipio." T'Kir told him over dinner, "Why didn't you walk away during the three years the SID blacklisted us?"

"The crew needed us." Macen said, sipping his juice and nodding toward Daggit, "Rab! Have a seat."

Daggit sat his tray down and accepted the offer. T'Kir studied him for a moment, "You seem happier."

"Parva can walk. She's using braces of course. She may have to for the rest of her life but she's mobile!" Daggit exuded, "Tessa's fantastic."

"Who's Tessa?" Macen wondered.

"The EMH." Daggit explained, "Parva named her that and the EMH likes it so she's keeping it."

"Will wonders never cease?" Macen asked.

"Rab, _you_ seem happier today." T'Kir pointed out, "You don't seem so careworn."

"Guilty you mean?" Daggit asked and T'Kir nodded, "I had an insightful discussion with Lisea that helped bring things into perspective."

"Someone mention my name?" Danan asked as she carried her tray over. She took a seat beside Daggit, "I thought you'd still be with Parva."

"She's down for the night. She ate and fell asleep. Tessa gave her a sedative and she'll be out until morning."

"Tessa being the EMH?" Danan asked and Daggit nodded.

"How'd you know that?" Macen demanded.

"I visited Parva before my shift started and Tessa gushed about her new name." Danan grinned.

"I see Radil's circling the wagons." T'Kir commented. Across the room, Radil sat with Abby Collins and some of Security staff.

"The whole ship is abuzz with what happened between her and Kort." Danan remarked, "The rumour mill is working overtime on this one. She needs to find all the comfort she can."

"Speaking of comfort," Macen said, "has anyone seen Kort?"

"I saw him in a counselling session today." Danan answered, "It didn't go well."

"He never reported in to Sickbay." Daggit replied.

"Oh no!" Danan exclaimed through hurried bites of her dinner, "I think he may be drinking."

"I locked all the replicators down." T'Kir announced.

"Kort's a doctor." Danan reminded her, "All he needs are the raw components."

"Bug juice." Macen commented.

"Exactly." Danan finished wolfing down her food and tapped her comm badge, "Locate Kort."

"Doctor Kort is in his quarters." the computer replied.

"Let's go." Macen said and the quartet rose as one. They left their trays behind and hustled out of the Team Room. Radil watched and thought about advising Security. If the officers in question had wanted Security's involvement, they would have asked for it, she decided.

The concerned quartet arrived at Kort's quarters within fifteen minutes. They'd run to and from the turbolift. They chimed the door and there was no response.

"Remember if he's drunk, he won't want to come with us." Daggit advised.

Macen and T'Kir drew their weapons and assumed shooter's poses. Daggit and Danan stayed in reserve.

"Computer, override door lock Deck 5, 32, authorisation Macen Delta THX 1138." Macen ordered and the door slid aside. Inside, furniture was overturn and hacked to pieces by a _bat'leth_. There were several bottles full of something that smelled like solvent. There were several more empty bottles.

Macen hit his comm badge, "Sickbay, we have a medical emergency at Kort's quarters."

"We're on our way." the medtech replied.

"Well, his insides should definitely be clean." Daggit said, sniffing a bottle.

"His internal organs might be liquid by now." Danan remarked, "At least he's still breathing."

"He's lucky Klingons have redundant organs." Macen replied, "Otherwise I don't think he'd still be with us."

"Hey!" T'Kir called from the bathroom, "He's got a tub full of this stuff."

"His version of bathtub gin." Macen shook his head as the medtech and the nurse rushed into the room and began stabilising Kort's condition. The med tech set up the framework of the antigrav gurney and then lifted the burly Klingon as though he were a feather.

"I knew it was a mistake for the senior officers quarters to have bathtubs." Danan remarked.

"Hey!" T'Kir and Daggit protested at the same time.

"I see." Danan said with worldly wisdom.

"Kort gets new quarters tomorrow." Macen decided, "Kalista can move his stuff while he's recuperating in Sickbay."

"And if this happens again?" Danan asked.

"He's relieved of duty. Tessa can cover the CMO slot. _Voyager _proved that." Macen said sternly.

"If he's not already over the edge, that'll send him there." Danan warned.

"I can't be worried about his mental health." Macen snapped, "I'm worried about his job performance. If he's going to endanger lives, he needs to be dealt with and in short order."

Danan hesitated and then acquiesced, "You're right."

"I wish I wasn't." Macen said miserably.

"Maybe you should drop by my office once in awhile." Danan suggested.

Macen gave her a wry look, "My problems run too deeply for you to help."

"I forgot." Danan laughed, "You're married to T'Kir. You've got to be nuts."

"Watch it missy!" T'Kir growled, "I'll make you think you're six year old boy with a booger permanently stuck up your nose."

"You wouldn't."

T'Kir lifted her eyebrows up and down and bit her lower lip, "Try me."

"You know what I just realised." Daggit said while inspecting the damage to Kort's quarters, "We haven't seen our new Chief Engineer since he got the job."

"You're right." Macen sighed and turned to T'Kir, "Next stop, Dracas' quarters."

* * *

"Now remember," Macen remarked, "he thinks you're an evil pixie."

T'Kir rolled her eyes. Macen hit the door chime. A moment later, the door opened to reveal a shirtless Dracas. His physique was far superior to his predecessor's.

T'Kir whistled, "Too bad you're wasted on women."

"Maybe not all of them." Dracas said, his face was disturbed, "I've been becoming aroused around a certain woman."

"Bald, stands yay-high." T'Kir described, "Goes by the name Kalista."

"Yes." Dracas said miserably and sank into a chair, "I can't go out for fear of meeting her."

"Honey," T'Kir waved her hand, "your troubles are over. She's a Deltan. They exude pheromones that excite the sex drive. Every man on this ship gets a boner around her. Except for," she jerked her thumb towards Macen, "Captain Courageous here. Hell, half the women aboard get horny around her."

"What a relief!" Dracas ran his hands through his hair, "I thought there was something wrong with me."

"Did you ever find her attractive?" T'Kir asked.

"Well, no."

"Just erotic?"

"Er…yes." Dracas admitted.

"Guess what?" T'Kir threw up her hands, "You're still homosexual and a human being to boot."

"You know what?" Dracas smiled, "I like you."

"Now my life's ambition has been fulfilled." T'Kir quipped, "Now what am I t'do?"

"You were right, Captain." Dracas said, "Despite differing appearances, everyone aboard is essentially human."

"Just don't say it too loudly, people might get offended." Macen warned, "And you didn't get it from me."

"I'm certain you didn't stop by to solve my sexual angst, so why the visit?"

"Just concerned because you haven't been mingling with the crew or the Command team." Macen informed him.

"Now that I know the hallways are safe, I'll make it a point."

"Eaten yet?" T'Kir asked.

"No."

"Put a shirt on." she ordered, "You're about to."

"Yes, ma'am."

Macen gave her a quizzical look and she shrugged, "We can have coffee or juice."

"All right, _Captain_."

"That's right." T'Kir bumped him with her hip, "Just remember who keeps this boat flying."


	24. Chapter 24

108

The following morning, Kort was highly sedated. Parva was bright and perky though.

"Captain, T'Kir, come in!" she waved.

"How's everyone's favourite patient doing?" Macen asked.

Parva smiled, "Not everyone's. The man stealer was in earlier to check on Doctor Kort."

"The man stealer?" T'Kir chuckled.

"Her label for Radil." Daggit explained, holding Parva's hand.

"Something I should know about?" T'Kir happily enquired.

"Down girl." Macen advised, "We just came by to check on everyone. Rab, we're on our way to Thrandice to engage Solarian forces. Any idea when you'll be back on duty?"

Daggit shrugged, "That depends upon Lisea and Tessa."

"Well, you have three days from now so get better." Macen patted the larger man's arm, "You're relief is good but she's not you."

"I'll be there." Daggit assured him.

Macen's comm badge chirped and he slapped his belt, "Macen here."

"It's Shannon," Forger's voice came across the sound field, "am I getting relieved some time soon?"

"I'm on my way, Shannon." Macen promised. He turned to Parva, "Duty calls."

"Give them hell." Parva cheered.

"Later." T'Kir waved goodbye and followed Macen out.

"I like them." Parva told Daggit.

Daggit smiled, "So do I."

* * *

"Sorry `bout that." Macen told Forger, "We were in Sickbay checking up on the patients."

Forger smiled, "I think I'll visit Parva after dinner."

"She'd like that." Macen replied and moved over to the helm, "Well, Hannah, how long until we reach Thrandice?"

"Same as before." Grace grumped, "Loping along at a leisurely warp 5, it'll take four days, seventeen hours, fifty-three minutes and sixteen seconds."

"And she's not even a Vulcan." T'Kir crowed from the OPS station.

"We need to go this slowly in order to not tax our allies' engines." Macen reminded her.

"They shouldn't even be coming along." Grace hissed just loud enough for Macen, and T'Kir, to hear, "T'Kir told me about your conversation with Drake. The _Intrepid _is supposed to travel to Magna Roma to meet the Romans, not have a surprise encounter at Thrandice."

"That may be," Macen whispered back, "but I don't know what's waiting there for us. The Roman _Banner_-class has almost as much firepower as a _Defiant_-class. I'm not going to neglect an opportunity to use them, especially when Solarian Security Systems has been one step ahead of us this entire time."

Grace pursed her lips, "I see. I'll stop second guessing you now."

"It would be appreciated." Macen replied dryly.

Riker chose that moment to arrive on the bridge. Macen turned to face him, "You're early, Tom. Problems?"

"Just can't sleep so I thought I'd do something useful." Riker explained, "You probably have a million things to do right now so I'm here to free you from the bridge."

"Thanks." Macen said, "I do have things to attend to. Have fun. T'Kir, you're with me. Also page Joachim Dracas and have him meet us in the brig…and tell him to bring his sword."

* * *

Dracas joined Macen and T'Kir outside of the brig. Kalista had escorted him in order to guide him on his way. She smiled upon seeing Macen and T'Kir.

"And what are you up to?" she asked playfully.

"You know," T'Kir quipped, "The usual. Scaring information out of the prisoners."

"Nice to see you again, Captain." Kalista remarked. Macen's immunity to her pheromones made him one of the safest people aboard for her to talk to.

"It's good to see you again, Kalista." he replied, "You hardly ever visit the bridge."

"I'm not certain that Commander Riker would appreciate it. My effect upon him is particularly profound." Kalista sighed.

"Mr. Riker needs to learn to deal with it." Macen replied sternly.

"I was surprised when Chief Dracas called me." Kalista laughed, "I was under the impression he was avoiding me."

"You were right." Dracas admitted, "But that issues been resolved now."

"I take it I have you two to thank for that?" Kalista looked at Macen and T'Kir. They each studied the ceiling and the bulkheads.

"I'll be going now." Kalista waved as she departed, "Good luck with your torture session."

Dracas looked at Macen and T'Kir and asked, "You two are really immune to _that_?"

"I was born in the wrong quadrant." Macen shrugged.

"I'm horny enough already." T'Kir explained, "I don't need help from her."

Dracas looked to Macen, who nodded, "Trust her on this one."

"So why am I here?" Dracas asked, "There's some routine maintenance in Engineering I've been overseeing. Just to get the crew used to my expectations."

"You're here to help Mr. Harkins recall everything that he possibly can." Macen said with a wicked grin.

Dracas and T'Kir matched his smile.

Abby Collins relieved Miress, the Bolian female watching the prisoners, "They're all yours, Captain."

"Which one's Harkins?" Macen asked as he studied the faces behind the forcefield.

Dracas drew his sword and pointed, "That one."

Harkins and Peterson had cells to themselves. Hamish and Smythe shared a cell. Macen approached Harkins' cell and drew his pistol. T'Kir drew hers and stood further back.

"Step forward." Macen ordered.

"Why?" Harkins scoffed, "So you can shoot me or stab me again? I've already been traumatised enough on this assignment."

Macen's eyes took on a manic gleam, "Do you really want to know about trauma? I can arrange that for you."

"I thought you were Starfleet!" Harkins cried, "That's what they told us."

"_Ex_-Starfleet." Macen's gleam intensified, "_Big_ difference."

"I can't." Harkins whimpered.

"Dracas," Macen said coldly, "castrate him."

Macen deactivated the forcefield and Harkins began to shout, "I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Dracas hesitated and Macen waved him off. He reactivated the forcefield to put the captive's mind at ease and holstered his pistol. T'Kir did the same as Macen moved to the Security desk. Collins moved aside for him and he sat down. T'Kir sat on the corner of the desk.

"All right, Mr. Harkins." Macen folded his hands together out in front of him, "Let's begin with the defences at Thrandice. How many ships are there and of what type?"

"I don't know." Harkins replied.

"Eeehhhh." T'Kir responded with an obnoxious buzzing sound, "Wrong answer. Never lie to a telepath. You get caught."

"Shall we proceed with Plan A?" Macen asked.

"No." Harkins' shoulders slumped, "There's typically six ships held in reserve. They're all Q-ships, armed freighters and the like."

"Any thing new or different?" Macen asked.

Harkins looked pained, "There's a black project. A new ship design. It's code-named 'Dreadnought'. It's a prototype for a new ship class to take the place of the existing fleet. That's all I know."

Macen looked to T'Kir, who nodded.

"Very good, Mr. Harkins." Macen congratulated him on his cooperation, "Now what about ground defences?"

* * *

Afterwards, Miress resumed her post and Collins returned to the Security Office. Macen shook Dracas' hand.

"Thank you Joachim." Macen acknowledged, "It wouldn't have been nearly so easy without you."

"I thought she could read minds." Dracas said, pointing at T'Kir.

"I can." T'Kir affirmed, "But how easy it is depends on how much of my medication I've been given. Lately I've been taking too many meds to be useful."

Macen ignored her accusation, "Kort and I simply don't want to see you reduced to a babbling mess on the floor any more."

"Collapse into a neurotic heap once and a while and you get branded for life." T'Kir huffed.

"I'd like to cut that down to 'never collapsing into a neurotic heap' if I can help it." Macen remarked.

"You're too cautious." T'Kir pouted, "I was fine on a lower dose."

"We'll see." Macen considered her statement.

"Can I go now?" Dracas asked, clearly uncomfortable.

"Yes, get back to your maintenance projects." Macen smiled.

"Thank you." Dracas placed his fist on his heart, "This ship will soon outperform all others of her class."

"Doesn't she already?" T'Kir asked Macen after Dracas had left earshot.

"Not the _NovaX_ prototypes." Macen replied.

* * *

Riker stepped into Science Lab A to find Danan there alone, "Should I be worried?"

"That would be if I called you into my counselling office." Danan smiled brightly.

"So I haven't done anything wrong?" Riker asked.

"I wouldn't go _that_ far." Danan replied, "Remember when the saboteurs had stunned most of his and then Dracas arrived with the medical staff to revive us?"

"Of course." Riker said.

"You immediately came to my side and checked on me." Danan explained, "While I was flattered and reassured, I also noticed that you never checked on Shannon the way you did me."

"Your symbiot made you a higher risk for complications." Riker defended himself.

"You did it because we're involved." Danan replied, "As the acting CO, you're duty was to the entire crew, not just me. If our relationship is going to be a distraction for you it will end."

"You're serious?" Riker asked.

"Deathly."

"Then it won't be a distraction." Riker vowed.

"That's what I wanted to hear." Danan smiled brightly, "Now you just have to live it."

"I will." Riker smiled, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to relieve Grace."

"You left Hannah in command?" Danan was astounded.

"It was better than tracking down T'Kir."

"Not by much." Danan snorted.

"She's come through in the recent crises." Riker admitted, "She deserves the chance at the centre seat."

"As long as she doesn't get to comfortable." Danan amended.

"Exactly." Riker grinned as he departed.

"Lisea, my love, you're falling for a man that's a closet daredevil. We all know where that led last time." she said to herself in the silence of the lab.

* * *

Radil stormed into Sickbay, "Is he all right?"

"He's resting but conscious." Tessa told her, "We had to regenerate several of his internal organs, including the liver and kidneys but he'll be fine now."

"Thank you." Radil stole a glance towards Parva and Daggit. Parva waved and wore a knowing smile. Radil wondered what she could know. She herself was far too conflicted to know anything.

She tentatively approached Kort's bed and whispered, "Kort, are you awake?"

Kort's eyes opened and he spoke. His normally resonant bass was scratchy and faint, "Yes, Jenrya. I'm here."

"What were you thinking?" she demanded.

"I was trying to kill the pain," Kort answered, "and myself apparently."

"This is all my fault." Radil declared forlornly.

"Nonsense." Kort coughed, "I made my own decision. Your only decision was to follow your heart."

"I didn't want to separate from you." Radil confessed, "It just all those damn Klingon rules of conduct. The Way of the Prophets is so much easier. You meet, decide you like each other, sleep with one another and eventually fall in love or go our separate ways."

Kort smiled, "Sounds nice."

"You could try it, you know." Radil suggested, "That's all I was after."

"I'm not sure…" Kort wavered.

"Kort, just because you sleep with someone doesn't mean you have to marry them!" Radil insisted.

"I…I can try." Kort offered.

"I don't know." Radil frowned, "It might be too late for that."

"At least let me try, one last time." Kort pleaded, "If you're still unhappy, we can go our separate ways and never try again."

"I promise one date, Kort." Radil assured him, "We'll see where it goes from there."

Kort smiled gratefully, "Agreed. It'll be a 'date'."

"I suggest you look up what that means." Radil urged.

"I will." Kort promised and then shrugged, "It's not like I have much else to do right now."

"True." Radil agreed and then more softly asked, "Is it all right if I visit you tomorrow?"

"I'd like that." Kort admitted.

"`Till tomorrow then." Radil said and strode out of the room.

Kort watched her backside as she departed and wistfully said to himself, "I could watch that all day."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Macen and T'Kir came calling on the patients. T'Kir went to say hello to Parva and Daggit while Macen used the distraction to interview Kort.

"How are you, Kort?"

"I've been better." Kort admitted, "My liver regenerated nicely but my kidneys had to be replaced with biosynthetics."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Macen confided, "But I'm interested in how _you_ are doing. Will there be a repeat of this incident?"

"No." Kort replied.

"Kort," Macen's voice was pained, "help me out here. I have a CMO that just about threw his life away drinking a concoction that would strip paint off of walls and I need to know whether or not I need to permanently relieve him of duty."

"No, Captain." Kort said more forcefully, "You don't."

"How can I be sure?" Macen demanded.

"Can't you smell it?" T'Kir sidled up next to Macen, "There's a hint of Bajoran lilacs in the air. Radil's been here. I bet she's even given you a second chance."

"Demons woman!" Kort sniffed the air, "Vulcan noses are almost as sensitive as Klingon ones."

"Is that why you won't try this stunt again?" Macen asked.

"Yes, Captain."

"I'm sorry, Kort." Macen looked exasperated, "That's not good enough."

"As long as there is a chance for my redemption, I will abstain." Kort stated.

"And if she rejects you again?" Macen asked pointedly.

"Then I swear upon my honour that I will remain sober." Kort vowed.

Macen leaned closer, "Your honour is your last commodity. Value it highly."

"Yes, Captain." Kort replied in a subdued voice.

"And for what its worth," Macen added, "I wish you all the luck in the world with this second chance."

Kort broke into a toothy grin, "Luck will not be required, just heartfelt effort."

"May you have it just the same." Macen wished and walked away to Parva's bed.

"Just lighten up and you'll do fine." T'Kir advised and followed Macen.

* * *

Riker strode back onto the bridge. He'd stopped by his office to review some personnel matters and had straightened out some problems with the shift rotation of the Sciences department. They'd marched their grievances out before Danan and found no resolution. As XO, Riker was the last recourse in all personnel matters. He'd seen an easy solution so he'd offered it. He wondered where this would send his fledgling relationship next but he was eager to find out.

Riker stepped down to the command chair and leaned up against it, "Well, Hannah, enjoying the view?"

"I'm actually more centred to the screen at the helm." Grace replied.

Riker laughed, "No danger of getting a swelled head then?"

"No more than usual." Grace admitted dryly, "It's hard to be humble when you're the next best thing to perfect."

Riker shook his head, "It's no wonder you're still single."

Grace made to reply but Riker's comm badge chirped. He patted it and Danan's irate voice erupted from the sound field.

"Tom, what the hell did you do to my work rotations?"

"Perhaps you'd like to meet in my office so we can discuss it?" Riker suggested.

"You're damn right I do." she growled and signed off.

"Trouble in paradise?" Grace quipped.

"No more than usual." Riker replied.

"And you wonder why I'm still single." Grace remarked.

* * *

Danan was still livid when Riker met up with her at his office. She'd been pacing in the corridor for nearly ten minutes when he'd arrived.

"Hello Lees."

"What the bloody hell are you playing at?" Danan demanded.

"Do you want to have this discussion out here or in the privacy of my office?" Riker calmly responded.

"Office." Danan growled. Riker punched in the authorisation code and the door slid open with a distinctive hiss. Perhaps it was overexposure to Macen's prejudices but that particular facet of starship life was beginning to annoy Riker.

Danan plopped down in the couch before being invited by Riker to do so. Riker moved behind the desk and took his seat, "Can I offer you anything?"

"An explanation of why you reversed my decision and allowed Frelax and Hunt to swap shifts would be nice." Danan snarled.

"Frelax works better in the early morning hours. Hunt is naturally a late riser and is more alert later in the day. You had these people fighting their circadian rhythms to suit your own ends."

"Hunt is a better researcher." Danan remarked.

"According to their files, excepting their different areas of expertise, their skills are identical." Riker paused, "This is a case of playing favourites, isn't it? You feel more comfortable around Hunt and therefore put her on a shift compatible with your hours."

"Don't be absurd." Danan said rather defensively.

""Let's be honest, Counsellor." Riker leaned forward and folded his hands together, "Frelax's fitness reports are generic. They could have been written by anyone that knew his name. On the other hand, Hunt's jacket is full of personal observations. This isn't neglect, this is a simple case of not knowing someone."

"All right!" Danan threw her hands in the air, "I've barely spoken to him over the last two years but his research is immaculate. This guy is a spokesmodel for the scientific method. All of his conclusions are invariably proven correct. He's scary."

"But your people are invariably late or overtired during their shifts." Riker pointed out, "Doesn't that worry you?"

"Yes." Danan was forced to admit.

"So you'll abide by my authorising their shift changes?"

Danan shrugged, "You're the XO, I have to abide by it."

"And as a Department Head, you have to try and make it work." Riker reminded her.

Danan nodded, "Done." She glanced up at him and grinned, "Wasn't this so much more clear cut, each of sticking to our roles?"

"Clearer?" Riker asked, "I'm not so sure. Easier though."

"You took a big step today." Danan flashed a wicked smile, "I'm going to have to reward you for it later.

"Now _that _I can look forward to." Riker smiled broadly.

* * *

"Hey, Hannah." Macen said as he exited the turbolift, "Where is everyone?"

"Commander Riker is in his office deescalating some crisis Lisea was having. Rab's probably in Sickbay with Parva since he's still relieved of duty through tomorrow. Dracas is in Engineering fiddling with everything. Kort's contemplating the meaning of 'stupidity' and you two just returned. Did I leave anyone out?"

"Just one wise ass sitting in my chair." Macen remarked.

"I could help you track down Harry Mudd when you have time." Grace offered, "I know where to lay my hands on 'hot' runabouts and starcruisers."

Macen grinned, "I'll take you up on that when the time comes."

"Want your chair back?"

"Fight T'Kir for it." Macen suggested, "I'll be in my Ready Room avoiding everyone."

"Have at thee base pretender!" T'Kir cried and lunged for Grace.


	25. Chapter 25

123

The following day it was the same time at the same place and that found Rab Daggit in Lisea Danan's counselling office. Danan smiled as Daggit took his proffered chair.

"More relaxed this time?" was Danan's opening question.

"Yes." Daggit answered with a decisive nod, "Yes, I actually am. Part of that is the place, another is the method, and the last is the counsellor."

"Well," Danan fought the urge to blush, "let's see where we end up today."

* * *

On Thrandice, Hiram Zeist paced across the Command and Communications bunker built deep within the Solarian Operations Centre, "When will they be here?"

"Our Iotian contacts estimated that they'd do no better than warp six. That put them two and a half days away. They'll arrive later if these so called 'Nova Romans' are the neo barbarians they've been made out to be." General Grix, the Solarian Chief Tactical Advisor, answered.

Zeist knew better than to argue with the Chalnoth military officer. His race's predisposition towards violence didn't end with their sharpened fangs and diet of raw meat. They often put their opponent's joints out of socket during a heated debate. Zeist was the civilian Operations Manager. He was to oversee the financial and strategic realities of an operation. It was left to military specialists like Grix to implement and supervise the daily affairs of the projects.

"Will that give us enough time?" Zeist fretted.

Grix snorted. The human's fear was exciting his bloodlust, "The Dreadnought will be operational before day's end. That will activate it well before the worst-case scenario of our enemy's arrival. Now quite fretting or I will have you for my lunch."

Zeist sobered at the threat. Grix had made the same threat to Zeist's predecessor. The two had gone walking into the woods surrounding the Centre and only Grix had returned. He'd forbidden search parties from deploying and had quietly explained the situation with the Solarian President and CEO via secure comm link to Earth. No one since had taken one of Grix's threats lightly.

"I have your word then?" Zeist was pushing and he knew it.

Grix growled deep in his throat, "I have said as much human! Stop your worthless questions before I force them down your throat. I advised at the beginning of this project of its potential liabilities and I was ignored then. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm ignored now."

"Of course not!" Zeist declared, "We made a mistake before but it won't be repeated here."

"Then we might survive this after all." Grix half barked, half laughed.

* * *

"All right." Danan sat her padd down, "I'm going to recommend to Doctor Tessa that you be reinstated to duty. That doesn't mean I'm done with you. I want to go on on a weekly basis to begin with. Is that all right with you?"

Daggit thought about it, mulled it over and nodded, "I think so. I'm starting to find this rather cathartic."

"You should." Danan replied, "You have years of heavy guilt to deal with."

Daggit sighed, "The price of every campaign."

"This kind of trauma can heal though." Danan said encouragingly, "Just give it time and effort."

"Explain the Captain then." Daggit retorted.

"Little time and even less effort." Danan sighed, "Combined with a human lifetime's worth of trauma."

"Is there hope for him?" Daggit wondered.

Danan smiled, "There's hope for everyone."

"Even T'Kir?" Daggit frowned.

Danan nodded, "_Especially _T'Kir. Compared to the bad old days, she's practically sane now." Danan snorted, "Hell, compared to when she first joined up, she's practically sane now."

"You should have seen her on Risa." Daggit argued, "She fell apart completely."

Danan nodded again, "I wasn't there but it sounds similar to the breakdown she had when we were retreating from the Jem'Hadar. Only this time Brin didn't get stabbed."

"He was the lucky one." Daggit commented, "His immunity to her telepathy spared him the psychic pressure we had to endure."

"And you're angry about that?"

"Let's say I'm cautious." Daggit clarified, "When people in my old units showed signs of mental instability, they were recalled and given nice long furloughs. They didn't just have the medication upped and be put right back in the thick of it as though nothing happened."

"So you feel unsafe around her?" Danan enquired.

"She seems fine." Daggit admitted, "It was just damned irregular."

"A little irregularity is a good thing, especially when you're understaffed." Danan remarked and then sighed, "I hate to cut you off but I have an appointment with Kort I'm already late for."

"I was going by Sickbay to see Parva." Daggit revealed, "I'll walk you and I promise, no shop talk."

Danan smiled, "Deal."

* * *

With Riker back on the bridge, Macen and T'Kir greeted Titus Scipio in the primary transporter room. Like Dracas before him, Scipio reacted strongly at the sight of Telrik but he refrained from violence. The Tellarite, in turn, was grateful not to be threatened with a sword.

"Greetings, Commander." Macen placed his fist on his heart, "You honour us with your presence."

"Remarkable machine but jarring." Scipio remarked absent-mindedly then became aware of his surroundings, "You have not received the news, then? I am an Admiral now, second only to Admiral Kohl. Some day soon, I may be Commander of the Star Legions."

"Double the honour then for us to have you aboard." Macen rejoined.

Scipio smiled, "You're a true Roman at heart, Macen. It is no wonder the Emperor trusts you."

"But you had your doubts." it was a statement, not a question.

"Of course." Scipio laughed, "You were an alien, an unproven one at that. Your deeds on Iotia have proven your mettle."

"I'm glad you approve." Macen remarked dryly.

"I wouldn't have followed you on this errand if I didn't." Scipio admitted, "Now let us end this bantering and talk of _war_."

"I thought a bite to eat first would be appropriate." Macen suggested, "It is time for our evening meal."

"Then lead on." Scipio jovially urged, "Business is best discussed on a full stomach."

* * *

Leaving Shannon Forger in command, Riker met with Grace in his office, "This won't take long. I'm sure you're hungry."

"I am a bit peckish." Grace admitted.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on how you took charge during our attempted hijacking and made one sound tactical decision after another."

"Actually it was Joachim that came up with the strategy." Grace confessed, "I just followed his lead."

"But you were in command of the bridge when he arrived and you were preparing for a counter strike." Riker contended, "When superior experience came along, you bowed before it. All signs of a seasoned professional, Hannah. You're no longer the 'kid' of the group."

"I haven't been for several years." Grace remarked dryly.

"You've matured in more than one way." Riker elaborated, "Your decision to sacrifice your Attuner and embrace your humanity has made you a stronger person than I think you've realised."

"I'm certain Commander Parvac would disagree with you." Grace retorted.

"Then he'd be wrong." Riker confidently replied.

Grace thought about and then gave a tentative smile, "Thank you, sir."

"For what it's worth, you've finally won my trust Hannah." Riker announced.

Grace's smile blossomed, "_Thank_ you."

"You're dismissed."

* * *

Grace practically bounded out of the office. Riker leaned back in his chair and thought about the last six years. He knew it had been irrational to keep harbouring resentment against Grace for tampering with his memory but it had become a habit. A habit he was now happy to break. The girl had been purified through fire and had become a spectacular woman. Riker was proud to know her.

Grace proceeded to the Team Room. _No longer the "girl" of the team_, she replayed in her mind. At thirty, Grace hadn't felt like a "girl" for a while. She knew that chronologically speaking, she was still the youngest member of the group. Although, Macen and T'Kir were at the respective species' equivalents to their early thirties and no one accused them of being kids. Grace knew she was just being touchy. She'd just received a tremendous compliment after all.

It had taken six long years for Grace to silence all her critics and atone from hiding her true identity from her teammates. To do so once was unforgivable but she'd done it twice. It had been through sheer force of will that Macen had coerced the others into giving her second chances. T'Kir's forgiveness flowed even more readily than Macen's.

Macen himself had been a tough sell after she'd commandeered the ship. He was not a man who took betrayal well. Only her decision to abandon her Attuner, the device that granted her god-like powers, and forsake her people in order to remain with her teammates had ultimately swayed Macen. Loyalty like that had to be rewarded and he had by sticking by her side through thick and thin. The fact that his wife was her best friend didn't hurt matters any.

As she stepped into the Team Room, Grace was delighted to see Macen and T'Kir sitting at a table. The only other occupant was a fully bedecked Roman soldier. She recognised Titus Scipio from his previous appearances on the main viewscreen. She got into the queue for the evening's offerings from the chef. As her portions were doled out, she revelled in the smells it produced.

As she exited the line, she saw T'Kir wave her over. Grace smiled in return and threaded her way through the tumultuous gathering. She reached the table and put her tray down. Scipio moved his helmet further out of the way and rose.

"I am Titus Scipio and you are…?"

"Hannah Grace." she replied and accepted his hand in a grasp that extended to the elbow.

"I must confess," Scipio said with wide-eyed awe, "you remind me of my wife. She was born a Germanic noblewoman."

"Well," Grace replied, "I'm neither noble nor your wife."

T'Kir smirked as Scipio laughed, "You have fire. That will take you far I'm certain."

"As long as we have a mutual understanding." Grace replied.

"Of course." Scipio tipped his head.

Macen shook his head and grinned, "Now that you've met our Chief Pilot, may I simply state that my original plan was for your forces to form a perimeter while my ship engaged the enemy."

"Where is the honour in that?" Scipio demanded in between bites of his _quelish _parmesan.

"My government hasn't authorised your presence at this battlefield much less your participation." Macen said in a low voice, "Your presence is a precautionary one, in case we encounter a foe to great to handle alone."

Scipio leaned back and pondered these words, "I appreciate your candour, Commander. I will be equally frank. My Emperor has bade me to follow your instructions, whatever they may be. If you wish us to hold a line, then hold it we will."

"Thank you, Admiral." Macen replied gratefully.

"After we finish here, can we go on a tour?" Scipio asked, "I would love to see how this compares to one of our _Banner_-classes."

"Of course." Macen conceded and then noted Dracas' appearance. Gilan flagged the Chief Engineer over and Dracas nodded his acceptance and got into line for the evening's meal. At Macen's table a comparative analysis of the Roman and Federation ships began. It was a topic T'Kir and Grace were well suited for and Scipio seemed delighted.

* * *

Scipio's tour went without incident and the Admiral seemed contented, "I can see where your vessel is still superior to ours. Of course, we are better armed."

"This ship was designed for scientific inquires and is now primarily used for investigative purposes not combat."

Scipio sighed, "Such a waste."

Scipio eyed Macen holding T'Kir's hand and smiled, "On my ship that would be a punishable act."

Macen grinned, "Then it's a good thing I'm on my ship."

"It is indeed." Scipio chuckled and stood atop the transporter pad, "Here we go again."

Telrik's substitute keyed the transporter and sent the Admiral on his way.

T'Kir stole a furtive glance towards Macen, "Let's go do something totally forbidden on a Roman ship."

"You're on!"

* * *

Over and hour later, when an exhausted Macen and T'Kir were drifting off to sleep, Dracas returned to his quarters. The evening had been pleasant, far more enjoyable than expected. He'd ended the night in the gym. Now he was prepared to shower and catch up on some technical reading.

Although he grasped the basic engineering fundamentals of Federation starships, their more esoteric technology still eluded him. Quite frankly, he'd originally been amazed he'd been given the position of Chief Engineer. Now, he knew why.

Gilan had been offered the post and turned it down. He felt Dracas was more qualified and said so to the Captain and XO. Based upon his recommendation, Dracas had received the post. Gilan had been embarrassed to admit this but Dracas was grateful for his honesty. If he'd already secured the loyalty and trust of his second, then his job as a supervisor was halfway done.

Uncertainty had been a way of life for Dracas. He'd never been certain of his place with the Star Legions. A natural engineer, the Emperor's decree had placed him as a command authority over the entire ship. His being a clone had segregated him.

Here, there was a case or two of discomfort over his resemblance over the recently deceased Hal Dracas. Most understood that he merely wished to carry on his predecessor's legacy. A few were resentful of Dracas' swift assumption of Parva's former role. For most though, his skill had earned him a chance to further prove himself.

Dracas stepped into the sonic shower and revelled in its embrace. It was so much more soothing than the recycled water showers of the Roman fleet. His very muscles felt massaged by the reverberating ultrasonic waves. After his shower was done, he decided to forgo his evening stack of reading and simply turn in. Sleep came quickly.

* * *

Parva was still awake but tiring quickly, "Rab, what's your last name?"

"You're just now getting around to asking that?" Daggit laughed.

Parva looked sheepish, "It never seemed important. I can remember your first name. I can remember that I love you. I can even remember some moments we spent together _but_ I can't remember your last name."

"What moments?" Daggit wondered.

"Our dinner on Pacifica where we decided to become a couple." Parva replied, "The time you spread rose petals all over my flat and a candlelit dinner was prepared. I remember walks by a lake but I can't remember the name of the lake or how to get there."

"Anything else?" Daggit asked in fascination.

"Little things." Parva explained, "Waking up beside you. The smell of you after sex. The feel of your body pressed up against mine. A hundred things I miss."

"They'll be yours again." Daggit promised.

"Rab," Parva scolded, "I can't even _walk_ on my own."

"That may change."

"But probably not." Parva said pensively, "I'm not the woman you used to make love to. If I tried half of the things we used to do, or at least what I remember doing, I'll literally kill myself. Do you want to be stuck with that?"

"To tell you the truth," Daggit began to confess, "I only tried half of those things because you wanted to. A more intimate approach is appealing as well."

Tears welled up in Parva's eyes, "I don't deserve you."

Daggit gently kissed her lips and whispered, "And here I thought the opposite was true."

* * *

Kort discreetly watched the exchange between Daggit and Parva and silently wished that his own tumultuous relationship with Radil was far less…exciting. He wondered why she'd deemed him worthy of a second chance. Was it lingering love or was it pity? One he could accept, the other was to be cast aside, no matter the personal consequences.

* * *

Radil ran the Gamma shift security team through their second set of drills in four hours. This one involved volunteers from amongst the crew playing mutineers. The firefights were going hot heavy on Decks 2, 8, and in the shuttlebays. License being taken to assume the _Corsair_ was still there. So far, Radil's six-man shift was winning. They successfully suppressed half the mutiny so far and were closing in on the "ringleaders".

Overall, Radil was pleased. The Alpha shift, led by Abby Collins, had fared much better at cutting off the rebellion earlier but Gamma was getting the job done. Not one mutineer had reached the bridge or Engineering. And that was the real point of the exercise.

Radil yawned. It was nearing a twenty-hour day for her. Luckily, Collins could cover while Radil caught up on some much needed rest. She still hadn't completely unwound from the Iotian mission and dropping her bombshell on Kort. She still didn't know why she'd given him the chance to change things between them. She supposed nostalgia played a large part of it.

Kort had been an important part of her life for several years now. But as she'd discovered, animal lust didn't forge a lasting relationship. It'd been fun though. She wanted something more now and was determined to get it. Her flirtations with Daggit aside, she wanted a stable man. No Brin Macens or Rab Daggits for her.

Even Tom Riker was too flighty. Radil sought bedrock. A firm foundation built with a similarly minded man. That was what she craved.

"If only Abby were a man." Radil remarked, thinking of her budding relationship with her deputy. She knew there those among the crew that would pursue Collins regardless of sex. Radil wasn't one of them. She was content to leave the same sex trysts to Joachim Dracas.

Frankly, she wondered how Hannah Grace possessed the patience to keep holding out for the man of her dreams. Then again, Radil had no inkling as to what those dreams might be. Although Radil no longer had reason to doubt Grace's loyalties, she'd never taken the time to get to know the younger woman. Then again, Radil thought, Kort and Daggit were the only members of the crew she'd ever reached out to until her overtures towards Collins.

It suddenly dawned on Radil that she was lonely. She needed friends. In her past, friends had been a liability since they'd just get killed anyway. She'd had comrades but never honest to the Prophets friends. It was time to change that.

Abby Collins had plenty of friends. Perhaps she would make a few introductions on Radil's behalf. That would solve half of her uncertainty where Kort was concerned!

* * *

Danan sat curled up on the couch in her room, reading a novel. She'd been reading scientific papers until she began reciting facts and theories to all around her. She sipped a cup of tea and just put everything behind her. She was surprised by how badly she'd wished Riker had dropped by.

He'd defiantly taken her advice to heart and was giving her personal space. It was just, at this moment, she wanted a little less space. Of course that thinking had been her downfall with Macen. She kept craving his company even after she'd realised that he was unstable.

Riker had baggage to be sure but as they'd become friends Danan had seen past the scars and the fears that he presented to the galaxy at large. She still remembered the first time she'd met _Will_ Riker. She'd been an Academy cadet and he was a newly minted junior officer. She was on liberty and they'd enjoyed a wild night on the town.

Years later, after she'd been joined, Tom had been separated from Will and was serving aboard the _Gandhi_. Macen and Danan had been assigned to find a secret Cardassian base and dismantle a new weapon that had been created there. It was their first professional pairing. Riker had been drafted for the mission due to his piloting and strategic skills.

Riker's unique history had also contributed to his involvement. The Cardassians had learned of Tom's creation and were attempting to replicate it on a mass scale. Clones had to be trained. Duplicates came with their skills and memories intact.

It had been a tricky business but it had been sorted out in the end. Danan had been reunited with Riker when he joined the Maquis and drafted his plan to steal the _Defiant_. She'd not seen him again until Macen recruited him for the SID team and he'd been involved in her rescue from Magna Roma. All through these chance meetings and adventures, she'd never imagined that she would one day become lovers with Tom Riker.

_Lovers_, she thought and the thought sobered her. She wasn't in love with Riker, at least not yet but that hadn't stopped her from bedding him. It had been a mutually delightful experience. It could have led to a series of faultless trysts if the ghost of Jamie Kirk hadn't reared its head.

Riker panicked. Afraid of losing yet another lover, he'd tried to force the union into being more than it was. He'd made significant strides towards dealing with his grief and fear and Danan had high hopes for him. Their relationship was actually therapeutic for him; at least that's what she told herself.

She was surprised to find that she was beginning to hope for more herself. She had to counsel herself from falling to far to fast. She'd been down that road already. Her present relationship with Macen was usually congenial and occasionally explosive.

As T'Kir put it, Danan was Macen's self appointed Jiminy Cricket. Whatever the hell that meant. All Danan knew was that she tried to tone down her CO's more extremist tendencies. That couldn't be a bad thing, could it?

Danan put the novel down. She was too lost in thought to read anyway. She recycled her tea and ordered a glass of wine from the replicator. She was frustrated to learn that the replicator was still locked down despite Kort's obvious ability to attempt to inebriate himself without the aid of a replicator. Sighing, she opened a cabinet beside her bed and pulled out an older vintage Chateau Picard and opened the bottle.

She poured herself a glass and then drew a bath. _Thank the Pools officer's quarters have both a tub and a sonic shower_, she thought as she slipped in. She ordered the computer to play a selection of melodies by Joran Dax and contently soaked herself.


	26. Chapter 26

139

"Welcome back, slacker." Riker joked as Daggit entered the bridge and headed for the Tactical station.

"Discuss it with my therapist." Daggit retorted.

"I may just do that." Riker laughed.

Daggit debriefed his opposite number on the Gamma shift and took a seat, "Where's the Captain?"

"In his Ready Room." Riker replied, "He's been in there with T'Kir for several hours now."

"Anything kinky happening?" Daggit asked.

"Not on last inspection." Riker informed him, "I was just in there. Call your relief. He wants to see both of us. Today we make contact with the enemy."

"Right." Daggit turned and it the comm button wired to his relief's comm badge.

"Hannah, you have the bridge." Riker ordered.

"You've made a wise decision." Grace remarked as she summoned Ceryx to relieve her.

* * *

"Greetings gentlemen." Macen said as he rose from behind his desk as Riker and Daggit entered. T'Kir was curled up in her usual position on the couch, leaned to the right, keeping her gunhand and holster free. Daggit and Riker accepted the offer of the two chairs laid out before Macen's desk.

"Can I get anyone anything?" Macen said as he approached the replicator.

"I'll take coffee, black." Riker replied.

"I'll take a double _raktajino_." Daggit requested.

A glance towards T'Kir prompted her to raise her mug, "I'm still goin' strong on my caramel latte."

Macen placed the orders and added a vanilla caramel latte for himself. Dispending the drinks, he sat down. He grinned as the other men sipped their drinks and Riker wondered why.

"What's so funny?" Riker enquired.

"Nothing's funny." Macen replied, "I'm just pleased to have all my top advisors involved in this planning session."

"It could've happened a long time ago." Riker reminded Macen.

"I think we've covered this ground, Tom." Macen reprimanded.

"Right." Riker conceded with a hint of defiance.

"If you two want to get personal," Daggit interjected, "T'Kir and I could leave."

"It's nothing Rab." Macen assured him, "Just rehashing some old business that has no place in these discussions."

"What've you got so far?" Daggit asked.

Macen pulled up a picture of the Thrandice system, specifically, and an orbital overhead of the planet itself. Marked on it were the positions of the Roman ships. The _Banner_-class warships were in a triangular formation around the planet. There was an _Eagle_-class scout above each polar region. The third was held in rapid reserve in case any ship in the formation required assistance. There were six enemy ships highlighted in high Thrandice orbit.

"So what's our role?" Riker asked.

"To manoeuvre through the Q-ships and reach the operations facility on the surface."

"And the Romans?" Riker wondered.

"Will prevent the Q-ships from breaking orbit." Macen explained.

"Without firing a shot?" Riker dubiously enquired.

"The Rules of Engagement will be to fire if fired upon." Macen announced, "That holds true for _all _ships."

"So we're flying into the midst of a band of cutthroats that want to see us dead and we can't shoot until they do?" Daggit asked incredulously.

"This will be a Starfleet supervised operation." Macen explained, "The _USS Intrepid _will be rendezvousing with us to oversee the detention of those responsible for attacking our shipmates."

"Just how did an _Akira_-class vessel get the name _Intrepid _anyway?" Riker suddenly demanded to know.

"While the original _Galaxy_-class _Intrepid _was operating, they built the _Intrepid_-class prototype. There's been a lot of confusion resulting from that special dispensation. It's been a headache for Starfleet ever since they granted it but now it's too late to change it. When that ship was recommissioned as the _Bonaventure _and lost during the Dominion War, they allowed Admiral Johnson to resurrect the name of his old ship in a different class. " Macen described the history of the ship name, "Satisfied?"

"Yes." Riker replied happily.

"All right gentlemen." Macen grew more serious, "We make contact with the enemy in approximately six hours. That gives you four hours to make any recommendations towards this plan."

"Does Commander Scipio know what you're planning?" Riker asked with a wry grin.

"_Admiral_ Scipio knows the gist, not the specifics." Macen answered.

Riker whistled, "So they promoted him over that mess at Iotia?"

"More than that, they gave him a title." Macen replied with a rueful, lopsided grin, "He's now addressed as Scipio Iotianus."

"Give me a break." Riker snorted, "Between the _Enterprise_ and her compatriots and then our efforts, we practically cleaned up _before _the Romans even arrived."

"Scipio was the first Roman to defeat an Iotian in combat." Macen shrugged, "It means a lot to them."

"I guess." Riker was far from mollified, "But one of the crews of a _Miranda_-class gave their lives in that action."

"The ship and crew of the _ISS Tommygun_." Macen informed him, "They are being remembered, by both the Romans and us. The Romans hail them as shining examples of barbarian courage."

Riker bristled and Macen shook his head, "Let it go, Tom. You can't change a culture overnight."

"You're trying to with 'Dracas'." Riker retorted.

"People adapt faster than cultures." Macen said sagely, "Give him time. He's already embraced you like a brother."

"He has?" an astonished Riker asked.

"He knows of your 'origins'." Macen explained, "He sees you as a kindred spirit."

Riker pondered that and slowly smiled, "I guess I am, in a way. Thank you. I'll try to reach out more to him."

"That's all he needs." Macen replied gratefully.

"I hate to interrupt," Daggit interjected, "but is this meeting concluded? I, for one, would love to review these plans."

"Both of you are dismissed." Macen made shooing motions with his hands, "Get out of my office."

* * *

"So," Macen turned to the replicator but looked at T'Kir, "what do you think?"

"I think I need another latte." T'Kir said as she uncurled from the couch. She approached his desk and Macen noted the new top she wore. It was a red, sleeveless, Andorian silk blouse with a Mandarin style collar that he had recently given her. It looked as good in reality as it had in his imagination.

Macen handed her her drink and she sank down on the corner of his desk, "Tom's abrasiveness is all bluster. He's just thrilled at being included in the strategic process."

"That was my 'read' of his emotions as well." Macen took a swallow of his coffee, "What about Rab? He seems conflicted."

"He is." T'Kir confidently replied, "He's had three days to devote to Parva and now he's separated from her. He worries about how she'll do without him. On top of it, we're headed into combat, where anything can happen."

"By the way," she smirked, "thanks for talking the EMH into lowering my dose of meds. It makes things sooo much clearer."

"Anything happens, anything at all and the dosage goes up." Macen warned.

"I could just stop taking them altogether." T'Kir threatened.

"Do you remember what a mess you are every time that happens?" Macen enquired, "Let's avoid that, shall we? People get stabbed that way."

"_Again _with the stabbing thing." T'Kir protested, "When are you gonna stop bringin' that up?"

"When it stops motivating you." Macen revealed.

"I've got to remember that." T'Kir muttered to herself.

"Getting back to Rab," Macen steered the conversation, "does his preoccupation pose a threat to his ability to perform his duties?"

"I don't think so." T'Kir scrunched up her nose, "But you never know until the moment comes. You're worried about this plan, aren't you?"

"It seems solid enough but the Currents are divided at the point where we encounter the enemy." Macen divulged, "Probability goes wild at that moment."

"Maybe you should concentrate less on the future and more on the present." T'Kir wrapped her arms around his neck, "Like now, for instance, "I'm sitting here full of unrequited desires and all you can talk about is work."

Macen kissed her and she melted into him. Then he pulled away, "That'll have to suffice. We're one duty, remember?"

"You could lock the door." she pouted.

"The whole idea of the Ready Room is to give the Captain a contemplative area as well as a point of contact with the crew. You can't have that with the door locked!"

"Fine." she said in resignation as she slid off the desk, "Now what?"

The door chimed and Macen grinned, "_Now_ I take Joachim's report on the status of the engines and you go relieve Hannah as the officer of the watch."

"Can she be my XO?" T'Kir asked eagerly.

"Whatever." Macen replied dismissively and watched her scurry from the room. Dracas was nearly run over as he tried to enter.

"Does she ever stop?" Dracas asked as he tried to catch his breath from dodging the manic Vulcan.

"Not that I've noticed." Macen ruefully admitted, "How can I help you, Joachim?"

"You can start by scheduling some yard time for a refit after this next fracas." Dracas announced.

"How bad is it?" Macen sat out a cup of coffee for Dracas and replicated some apple juice for himself.

Dracas gratefully accepted the coffee. Macen had remembered how he took it from the first time he'd been in here. He took a swallow and saluted Macen with the mug.

"Perfect." Dracas' smile faded and he grew serious, "The engines are worn. Not so badly as to call off the mission and seek an immediate refit but their time is almost up. The only saving grace is that the entire engine room seems to be experimental, which allows us to exceed every operational parameter Starfleet has laid out for this class of ship. None of the technical journals cover this type of warp core or warp engines."

"Nor will you find an official journal that covers them." Macen explained, "They're the gift of the Special Projects Yards of Starfleet Intelligence. Officially, these engines don't exist and we don't have them. I suppose I can have some of the engineers at the SPYards send you some technical data on the core and the engines."

"I have the basics down." Dracas said, "But I'm uncomfortable having gaps in my knowledge."

"Yes," Macen grinned, "I've heard horror stories of you grilling a rating over their particular cog in the wheel and relieving them if they didn't know how it worked."

"I tutor them over the material we have on the components they monitor and that way we both learn." Dracas insisted.

"Whatever works for you." Macen conceded, "The bridge engineering station reports that warp core efficiency is up and engine performance is the highest it's been in two weeks."

"Are you criticising Parva's performance as Chief Engineer?" Dracas enquired with some worry.

"Hardly." Macen assured him, "It boils down to a difference of styles. Hal Dracas was a gifted engineer but he was a yard dog for most of his career. He thought in two-dimensional terms. Whatever his shortcomings were in his conceptualisation process, he saved our butts on plenty of occasions. There's no denying the man was good."

"His relations with his crew were laidback and loose. It was a jovial atmosphere. Every tech and rating knew their job inside and out though." Macen informed him, "Parva, though, was a brilliant engineer and innovator. If she had a fault it was that she wanted everyone dependent on her brilliance. This led to the lack of expertise you're encountering now. Old hands know their jobs and the newer replacements knew their specific duties, not the big picture."

"You knew this?" Dracas demanded.

Macen leaned back and drank some juice, "I prefer to let my department heads run their departments the way they deem fit. If you'd care for an observation, though, I'd lighten up on your crew a bit. They're terrified of you. You sliced an alien apart in front of them. They're worried that they'll be next."

"They think that?" Dracas was bewildered.

"According to the latest reports Commander Riker's been getting they do." Macen informed him, "Smile, crack a joke, eat lunch and dinner with different groups of them and see how it goes."

Dracas numbly nodded, "I'll try."

"You have to find your own rhythm, not try to emulate ghosts." Macen advised, "If you need any advice, ask Commander Riker."

"Would that be all?" Dracas asked, poised to stand.

"I think we're done here." Macen said and Dracas made ready to leave, "Call me if you have any concerns."

"Certainly." Dracas fist went to his heart and swung forward.

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Riker asked as he bobbed his head into the Ready Room.

"Come on in and sit down." Macen invited.

He took a seat on the corner of his desk and Riker eyed the couch, "Since T'Kir is busy trying to run the ship aground on a planet, I guess it's safe to sit here."

"So what are the trouble twins up to?" Macen asked with a wry grin.

"Who knows?" Riker confessed, "I've been hiding in my office. I heard something about T'Kir wanting to fire a shot across a Roman bow. I left right after that."

"I do believe power has gone to her head." Macen opined.

Riker snorted, "Hannah is just as bad if not worse."

"So what do you think of my proposal?" Macen asked.

"It seems pretty solid, as long as the Solarians line up the way you've modelled.' Riker answered.

"Not that," Macen waved his hand dismissively, "my _other_ proposal, the one where you become Captain of the ship and I revert to being Mission Commander."

"Is the title up for grabs this time?" Riker asked.

"If that's what it takes." Macen admitted.

"What about co-Captains?" Riker asked, "It worked on the _Enterprise-A_."

"Nice try, Tom." Macen shook his head, "There needs to be a clear chain of command. One ship, one Captain."

"What'll we call you then?" Riker enquired, "Mission Commander is a mouthful."

"Just plain Commander will work." Macen replied, "I held that rank for thirty-five years. I'm used to being called by it."

"And my XO?" Riker wondered.

"Call him or her XO." Macen shrugged, "Saves time and confusion."

"One last bit, the command chair?" Riker was hopeful.

"Sorry, Tom." Macen flashed a wicked smile, "I'm still in overall command."

"Damn."

"If it's any consolation, I won't use it very often." Macen said consolingly.

"I suppose you'll be keeping the Ready Room as well?"

"At least until we get an office built for myself."

"I'll put Dracas on it right away." Riker said eagerly.

"Wait until the mission's done." Macen scolded, "We'll be headed to the SPYards for some refit time after we've finished at Thrandice."

"I can't believe it." Riker said, "When do we announce it to the crew?"

"For someone that didn't want command, you're chomping at the bit here." Macen observed.

"It's not the same." Riker confessed, "I'll still have you around and like you said, this is what I hired on to do."

"Who do intend to make your XO?" Macen enquired.

"I'm torn between asking Shannon to do it but retain her normal hours and asking Lisea to do it."

Macen winced, "You'd have better luck with Forger."

"You think she's ready for it this time?" Riker asked.

"I do but she may not." Macen said, "Keep Lisea in the back of your mind, the _very_ back." But he could sense that Riker was already determined to ask her first. Macen pitied him and wished him luck. Danan had received her fill of being an XO when she served with Macen during their infiltration into the Maquis.

* * *

"Are you _frinxing _insane?" Danan paused, "Or am I insane for not already having tossed you out of my office?"

"Your experience qualifies you." Riker insisted, "You were the XO on both the _Blackbird_ and _Hydra_-class _Odysseys_."

"And I hated it." Danan snarled, "Don't ask me, Tom. You won't like my answer."

Riker sighed, "Forget I brought it up."

Danan's shoulders unhunched, "Shannon Forger is better suited for this and she knows she's ready."

"You know this for a fact?" Riker asked.

"She was in this very office two weeks ago saying how she'd made a mistake leaving the XO's slot." Danan replied.

"Aren't you breaking confidentiality by telling me this?"

Danan shrugged, "The session was over when she said it and it fulfils her wish. I don't see the harm."

Riker kissed Danan on the forehead, "You're a good woman, Lisea Danan."

With that, he departed and Danan found herself wanting more.

* * *

Macen activated the intercom and spoke to the entire ship, "For those of you I'm disturbing, I'm sorry. Perhaps you'll forgive the early wake-up call once you hear the news I have to relay. Effective immediately, the _Obsidian_ will have a new captain. Tom Riker has agreed to accept the post. I will remain aboard as well as Mission Commander and will be in overall command of the ship and her missions. This has not been an easy decision to reach and I hope that it will settle well with those that count the most: the crew. For ease of use, my title will be that of Commander but make no mistake about it; I will not be subordinate to any officer aboard. I remain the ultimate authority aboard this ship so in effect, little has changed."

The transmission terminated and Riker leaned in close to Macen, "Nothing but the strategy planning sessions."

Macen grinned, "So when are you announcing Shannon's promotion?"

"In a few minutes." Riker revealed, "I wanted to give the crew time to accept your news first."

* * *

Five minutes later, Riker was on the comm, "This is your Captain speaking. I know it will take some time to get used to that but that's the new reality. I'm speaking with you to reveal two new choices for positions opened by this change up. Shannon Forger has agreed to be my XO and I'm promoting Hannah Grace to 2nd Officer effective immediately."

Grace looked stunned and kicked in the gut at the same time. It was apparent to all on the bridge the announcement came as a surprise to everyone, including Grace.

Riker signed off and Grace stood, "I can't be your 2nd Officer. I'm the Chief Pilot for the Alpha Watch."

"No one's taking that away from you, Hannah." Riker placed a hand on her shoulder, "It's just that Shannon's remaining on Gamma shift. That meant I had to select a ship's officer, not one of the Investigative Team, to sub for me when I step off the bridge. You're SID as well as a shipboard specialist."

"But I'd hoped to get away on more away missions."

Riker looked to Macen, "I'm certain we can work something out."

Macen smiled and nodded and Grace heaved her shoulders, "Are you sure about this? I mean _really_ sure?"

"As sure as I am about anything else." Riker said reassuringly.

"Okay," Grace shrugged, "then I'm your woman."

"What's our ETA to the Thrandice system?" Macen asked.

"Forty-four minutes." Grace answered without the aid of her equipment.

"Sound battle stations." Macen ordered, "From this point on we could hit a Solarian patrol."

As the alarm klaxons sounded and Macen took his seat in the command chair, Riker sat beside him and leaned over, "Shouldn't that have been my order?"

Macen shrugged, "You took too long."

Riker bristled but forced his mind clear for the engagement ahead.

"Rab," Macen said softly, "if you'd like to go down and reassure Parva, now's the time to do it. Shannon can cover your station."

Forger put her hand on Daggit's back and gently nudged him out of his seat. She sat as he left and adjusted the seat for her requirements. Next she configured the station's LCARS profile to the file designated 'Forger 1'. Satisfied, she began running tactical sensor sweeps.

* * *

"Rab!" Parva squealed with delight as she struggled to walk across Sickbay. Kort had been discharged. He was not returning to his duties until after completing a period of observation. That left Sickbay Parva's private domain.

"I thought you'd be preparing for the battle." she said as she stiffly walked to him and threw her arms around his neck.

Daggit passionately returned the embrace and kissed her, "I am but Ca… I mean, 'Commander' Macen gave me a few minutes to see you and see if you're all right."

"Tessa, Stefan and Alyssa have been reminding me of first aid and how to triage patients." Parva smiled, "I should still be useful."

"Always." Daggit assured her.

Parva blushed, "You don't sound as though you're happy with the change in command."

"I'm not." Daggit admitted, "No one else I know is either. It's true it doesn't change much but the titles but I don't think Riker's going to last long with Macen still calling the shots."

Parva frowned ion concentration, "Neither do I. For all his lamenting over his first command, what Tom Riker really wants is his independent command."

Daggit stared and Parva shrugged and adopted a sheepish little smile, "I remember _some_ stuff."

Daggit kissed her forehead, "I think you're right. Question is, who are we going to get to replace him?"

"I don't know." Parva frowned, "I don't know who the candidates are."

Daggit laughed, "I'll let you know as soon as I know."

Parva nodded, "Deal."

* * *

After Daggit had returned to the bridge, T'Kir chimed up, "I have an intermittent contact at fifty thousand kilometres at bearing 32.7."

"Are they cloaked?" Macen asked.

"Negative, they seems to have sensor absorbent hull plating like ours and are deliberately masking their emissions profile." T'Kir reported.

"Lees, see if you can nail it down." Macen ordered, "T'Kir, keep your sensors peeled for any more contacts."

Macen could sense Riker chafing at the bit at sitting by while Macen ran the show. That was the price of being a flag captain when the admiral took direct control. This was Macen's operation and he was going to run it. Riker had to simply learn to deal with the situation.


	27. Chapter 27

152

The _Obsidian _dropped to impulse. Their mysterious monitor having been identified as a heavily modified _Skylark_-class scout. The Solarians were alerted to their coming and the Outbound Ventures ship could expect a very warm welcome. As the surveyor sailed through the system, the reception committee appeared to be missing.

The Romans faithfully tagged along and escorted the _Nova_-class science ship in. As Thrandice came into sensor range, only the previously identified scout and one armed freighter were within sensor view. Macen's extrasensory perceptions were screaming "Danger!"

"One quarter impulse." Macen ordered, "Pass the word to the fleet."

"Why?" Riker demanded, "We can sail in, disable them and be on our way to the surface."

"It's a trap." Macen's eyes narrowed.

"With what?" Riker enquired, "They have no ships!"

"They have one." Macen replied as the leading edge of a vessel began to clear Thrandice's backside.

It began as a thin slice of a ship, only five decks or so high. As it made its way around the planet, it thickened to a depth of twenty-six decks. It possessed an arrowhead shape stretching over a kilometre long. At the arrowhead's spar were four warp nacelles. There was no familiar bridge "blister" common to Starfleet ships. The _Nova_ and _Defiant_-classes being the first to depart from this scheme.

"So this is the 'Dreadnaught'." Macen said, standing with his arms akimbo, "Tactical analysis?"

"Redundant shielding." Daggit began his report, "Fifty-six disruptor banks powering up. Power output readings seem confused."

"That's because this thing has a dual warp core." Danan announced, "Which means virtually limitless power."

"My God." Riker breathed, "Starfleet's been trying to successfully create a stable dual core for a century now."

"What's it do?" Macen wondered, having never heard of the project.

Riker, a former Starfleet Operations officer, began to explain, "The two warp cores are balanced in such a way that they provide interlinked powergrids running throughout the ship. Ostensibly, there's never a shortage of power because there's enough to function on one core."

"So it's overpowered?" Macen asked.

"That's the problem Starfleet's had. They blow the power grid every time they activate the warp cores." Riker answered.

"Signal the fleet." Macen ordered, "Scipio and the _Banner_-class ships are going to engage the Dreadnought. The scouts can secure the other two Solarian ships."

"You're sending the Romans into combat?" Riker demanded, "They, and we, are going to fight _that_?"

"Just long enough to make it pop a fuse." Macen clapped Riker on the shoulder.

"What the hell's a fuse?" Riker wondered as he retook his seat.

* * *

The _Obsidian_ led the charge. She swung in low, five hundred metres off the Dreadnought's deck and raked her shields with phaser fire. Scipio's ship, the _Imperator_, followed suit. The other two _Banner_-class warships attacked from a different vector along the larger ships ventral line.

Disruptor cannons fired and sent volley after volley of particle energy into space. The attacking ships were too low for the weapons mounts to acquire. The _Obsidian_ drifted from one end of the ship to the other pummelling the Dreadnought with phaser and torpedo fire. The _Imperator_ drew the capital ship's fire.

Finally, several of the Dreadnought's gunnery crew overwrote their disruptor banks safety protocols and began to fire on the Outbound Ventures ship. Grace pushed the surveyor to full impulse and began making strafing runs on the Dreadnought. The SID contractor and the three Romans dodged and wove their way around the massive ship all the while firing with everything they had.

* * *

"Where did they get this thing?" Riker wondered aloud.

"According to Ms. Peterson, the saboteur's XO," Macen calmly replied, "the project's been on the books for six years. Solarian was presented the plans and examples of the technology by an outside party and they've had separate modules constructed by competing firms. The essential systems were built at Solarian's yards."

"So you knew about this thing?" Riker accused.

"I knew they were building a ship code-named 'Dreadnought'." Macen replied evenly, "I didn't know it was nearing completion."

Riker cast one last suspicious glance Macen's way before returning his gaze to the main viewer.

"I have another ship dropping out of warp in system." T'Kir reported and then she smiled, "It's the _Intrepid_."

* * *

"What the hell is that?" Captain James McKinley asked.

"Whatever it is, Jim, its engaging the _Obsidian_." Admiral Robert Tavar Johnson replied, "That means Captain Macen needs our help."

"I want to know what those ships fighting alongside Macen are." Lt. Commander Ian Delaney, the ship's Tactical Officer spoke, "They're incredible. They're not in the database anywhere."

"My guess is that they're Nova Roman." Johnson remarked wryly.

"I've never heard of them." McKinley admitted.

Johnson shook his head, "You shouldn't have. They're a quarantined culture."

"Then what the hell are they doing with Macen?" McKinley demanded.

"They have a history." Johnson deferred.

"Leave it to Brin Macen." Commander Jonathan Striker, the ship's XO, remarked dryly.

McKinley was bothered by Striker's blatant trust regarding this violation of Starfleet security protocols and the Prime Directive. McKinley knew most of Striker's admiration stemmed from their mutual pasts as Starfleet Intelligence officers, but still…there had to be a limit. Macen was a legend on par with Elias Vaughn but with half the discipline.

The saga of an analyst becoming a field agent was the stuff of holonovels. For that agent to subsequently become a double agent for the Maquis and then being recalled by Starfleet Intelligence to undertake vital behind the lines missions during the Dominion War was unheard of. To follow the war by becoming the premier agent in the newly crafted Special Investigations Division capped off a notable career.

Macen's court-martial for excessive force and insubordination seemed to herald the end of his Starfleet career. His subsequent career as a privateer extended his life with Starfleet. It also opened the door for him to violate regulations left and right. McKinley knew that his friend, Bob Johnson, sat on the ultra top secret Council of 5 and that the Council's chief headache was often Brin Macen.

"Mr. Pedrossi, bring us in." McKinley ordered Alessandro Pedrossi, the chief Helmsman.

"Does the Captain wish for an attack vector?" Pedrossi asked.

"Unfortunately the Captain does." McKinley sighed, "Ms. Liefers, It's time to get the fighters underway."

Seated at the Flight Control station, Elizabeth Liefers gave the order for her two squadrons of _Peregrine_-class fighters to deploy. Using her station, she ordered up the attack vectors and primary objectives and relayed it to the fighters. An experienced fighter pilot herself, she was the perfect choice to command the squadrons.

From OPS, Ensign Lindsey Wen, reported, "I'm reading a dual warp core on that thing. The power's spiking but she's got enough to power Eurasia."

"Thanks OPS." McKinley turned to Ensign Emily Johnson, manning the Engineering station, "What can you tell us, Ensign?"

"Starfleet's tried to make the dual core work since the 2280s." Johnson replied and then relayed essentially the same history as Riker.

"Thanks, Miss Johnson. Keep up the good work." McKinley was always surprised by Emily Johnson's endless repertoire of technical facts. Besides that, the kid had a good head on her shoulders. He knew Robert Caplan, the Chief Engineer, kept a special eye on her.

McKinley tapped his comm badge, "Andreja," he said, addressing Andreja Sikorsky, the ship's Chief Medical Officer, "we're going into combat. Prepare for casualties."

"Noted." Sikorsky replied professionally and cut the line. McKinley mentally winced. Back when Bob Johnson had been CO and McKinley had been XO, he and Sikorsky had been lovers. That all changed with the destruction of the _Galaxy_-class _Intrepid_. For the most part, their present relationship was a good one but there were moments of nostalgia, like a moment before, that cut him to the quick.

For her part, Sikorsky was a devoted physician. She gave everything she had to her profession. Her only regrets came from losing patients. She was also a dedicated humanitarian and would doggedly fight for her cause. The chief thing that had brought her back to the _Intrepid_ crew was its status as Bob Johnson's flagship and Starfleet's premier diplomatic offering to the galaxy.

_Unfortunately,_ she thought wryly to herself, _diplomacy sometimes came _after _the fighting had ceased._

* * *

"The _Intrepid's _rolling fighters and accelerating to attack speed." T'Kir announced.

"Inform the Romans that the incoming forces are on our side." Macen ordered.

"You got it!" T'Kir bubbled.

* * *

The fighters streaked in first. They fired phaser volleys and microtorpedos. The _Intrepid_ sailed in behind, flanked by the _Obsidian_ and the _Imperator_. On board the _Akira_-class flagship, Wen announced, "They had a power spike and had to shut down one warp core!"

There was cheering across the bridge and McKinley smiled, "Good work people. Let's keep it up."

* * *

"Flash our operations plan to the _Intrepid_." Macen instructed, "The part where we detach and head for the surface."

"All right." T'Kir sounded more dubious.

* * *

Delaney reported the plan to Johnson and McKinley. Johnson shook his head but smiled, "Send Macen my regards and wish him luck."

"Is it wise to split our forces?" McKinley asked.

"Jim," Johnson chuckled, "what difference is a _Nova_-class surveyor going to make in this type of firefight?"

McKinley smiled, "I guess you're right. Maybe they can get someone on the ground to end this fiasco."

"At least these Romans are highly disciplined and motivated." Johnson mused.

* * *

"Give Scipio the _Intrepid's_ comm frequency." Macen instructed, "Inform him to coordinate with Johnson and McKinley from this point forward."

"Already done." T'Kir flashed an impish grin.

"All right, Hannah," Macen said, "take us to the surface."

* * *

Scipio appeared on the _Intrepid's _main viewer, "Commander Macen says that you are a man of honour and worth following. I bow before your experience, Admiral. Lead us well."

The screen reverted back to the view of the Dreadnought and McKinley leaned over towards Johnson, "Wouldn't he be disappointed to learn _I'm_ directing our battle."

"He's a Roman." Johnson shrugged, "Titles mean everything."

"Are these Romans as in Roman Empire Romans?" McKinley enquired.

Johnson nodded and McKinley shook his head, "Too weird."

"You don't know the half of it." Johnson warned him.

"Mr. Delaney," McKinley changed mental tracks, "Coordinate the Romans into a second wave of the next fighter run. Lieutenant Liefers, alert Delaney when you're about to sortie and then we'll do some damage."

"And Ian?" McKinley added, "Afterwards, hit them with everything we've got."

"Aye sir!"

* * *

"Venting warp plasma." Grace announced, "Maximising thruster output. Decelerating to half impulse."

"What's our tactical status?" Macen enquired.

"Shields at 37%. Dracas has teams working on that but he says don't expect much. Several generators are blown. Phaser reserves are recharging but the coil emitters are 77% used up. Our torpedo magazines are severely depleted. We have roughly a quarter of our original stockpile."

"Roughly more than 25% or roughly less?" Macen asked.

"Less." Daggit grimly answered.

"Damn." Macen calmly replied.

"Brin, we're in no shape to mount an attack against an entrenched target." Riker forecasted, "This is a suicide run."

"They only have four Type 8 phaser emplacements and a starship shield generator. We faced worse against the Dreadnought." Macen replied.

"You're letting your emotions cloud your judgement again." Riker accused.

"I'm proceeding on the available intel." Macen retorted.

"Uh, guys?" Grace interjected, "We're nearing their probable firing range."

"Hannah, as Captain of this ship, I'm ordering you to wave off."

"And as Mission Commander, I'm overriding your order." Macen said and turned back to the viewer.

"Fine." Riker replied, rose, and proceeded to the turbolift.

"Shannon, you're relieving Captain Riker." Macen informed her.

"Aye sir." Forger left the auxiliary station she'd been manning and took the XO's seat.

Forger cast her grey eyes upon Macen, "What's going to happen to Captain Riker?"

"Judging by his emotions he's going to request an independent command." Macen replied, "But we'll wait and see how he feels after he's calmed down."

Macen toggled the intercom, "Attention all crewmen, I'm once again assuming the mantle of Captain of this vessel."

Through the comm circuit cheers could be heard, "That'll be all."

"Ouch." Forger said, "Poor Tom."

"That was cruel Brin." Danan accused.

"A clear chain of command had to be established." Macen replied, "Don't let your newfound attraction for Tom Riker confuse that issue."

Chastised, Danan returned her attention to her instruments. She _had_ spoken out of emotion rather than what her own command experience had taught her. There couldn't be two commanders of a starship and the why behind Macen dividing the lines the way he had eluded her. Had he been seeking just such a confrontation?

Danan knew that Macen had been pushing Riker to accept a command of his own. She also knew that Macen still felt uncomfortable in the role of a starship strategist. He deemed his successes thus far to blind luck and the guidance of the Fates. This lack of confidence would eventually prove to be his undoing.

Like now, was he pushing so hard to prove himself or was it more pathological than that? Macen's psych profile was a mess but the one thing that was certain was that he would respond to threats with excessive force. Solarian had proven themselves to be a dire threat by hurting and killing hundreds of Outbound Ventures employees. These were people Macen deemed under his protection.

As had been proven earlier in this case, Macen sought vengeance not justice. How far would he go? How far should she let him go? As the ship's ersatz counsellor, she had the right to relieve him of duty. But could she bring herself to do it?

"They've acquired us and are opening fire." Daggit reported.

"Evasive." Macen ordered serenely.

Grace began juking the ship and performing all sorts of rolls. T'Kir worked at electronic warfare. She was trying to hack into the fire control computers and throw their aim off. Danan created sensor echoes to multiply the targets available. In the middle of it all, Macen confidently watched it all unfold.

The ship shuddered several times and then it lurched. T'Kir began listing damage reports, "Hull breaches on decks 5, 6 and 8. The port nacelle took a direct hit and was sheared in half. We've lost the capacity for warp speed."

"They're firing at us with eight phaser emplacements. Four look recently installed. They have two more they're trying to bring on-line."

"Hannah drop to the deck." Macen ordered, "Rab, hit them with everything we've got."

"Captain!" Grace cast a worried glance back towards Macen, "That structure is a central complex surrounded by a turreted wall. The phasers are in the turrets."

"I know, Hannah." Macen assured her.

"But at this altitude, we'll hit the wall!" Grace was desperate to make her point.

"I know that." Macen replied calmly, "Before we collide, you'll reduce impulse power to zero and take us in on thrusters only. Momentum and mass will do the rest. All you have to worry about is staying under those phaser arrays' ability to track targets."

Danan's moment of crisis was at hand, "Brin, is this wise?"

"It's wiser than letting those phasers shoot us full of holes." Macen replied looking back at Danan, "The reinforced hull and structural integrity field will protect the ship from most of the damage. The inertial dampener will help protect the crew. Once we warn them to brace for impact then it's just up to the Fates to protect us."

"We seriously need to have a talk about relying upon deities for a plan's success or failure." Danan scolded.

"Schedule me when we're done." then Macen snapped his fingers, "That's right! You can't counsel me because of our past involvement. I have to rely upon Starfleet for that service."

"Like you'd listen to anyone anyway you bullheaded jackass." Danan snapped back.

"This is why you're not my therapist." Macen grinned.

"Um, we're five thousand kilometres from the installation." Grace reported, "Can I please start slowing down now?"

"Drop to one quarter impulse." Macen instructed, "Reduce to zero one thousand kilometres out."

"But…" Grace began to protest.

"Just do it, Hannah." Macen hit the collision alarm and activated the intercom, "All hands, brace for impact."

Riker was in his office keeping abreast of the unfolding action. He hurriedly strapped himself in with the seat belt located on his office chair. Fortunately, the chair was bolted to the floor. Everyone's cabins had crash harnesses as well. He wondered how the engineers in Engineering would fare.

Crash seats unfolded from the very walls, Dracas was amused to learn. His entire team was strapped in and awaiting the worst. Hopefully the loss of the nacelle was the most catastrophic event they would face.

One thousand kilometres passed and Grace cut the impulse engines and fired up the thrusters on maximum. The wall loomed ever closer until it filled the view screen and then came impact!


	28. Chapter 28

169

1 "The ship's remaining warp core has been ejected." Ensign Wen reported.

"She's on auxiliary power." Delaney announced, "Her shields are holding at a fraction of their previous strength. Disruptor banks across the ship are powering down."

"Flight Ops, place Alpha and Gamma flights on stand-by." McKinley ordered, "And someone call off the Romans."

"Time for diplomacy." Johnson said wryly, "Here's where I take over, Jim."

"It's all yours, _Admiral_." McKinley deferred.

* * *

"Oy vey," T'Kir moaned, "did someone get the number of that truck?"

"It was a wall." Danan grumped, "Can we get a little light in here? The only things I can see are my instrument panels."

"T'Kir, emergency lights." Macen ordered, shrugging out of his crash harness.

T'Kir tabbed a control on her board and red back-up lights came on across the ship, "Here ya go. Annoying colour though."

"We seem to be settled." Macen stood, "But we're listing to one side."

"I tried deploying the landing pads but they were sheared off." Grace explained, "And then the engineering hull dragged along the surface for five thousand metres or so."

"I bet that was noisy down below." T'Kir remarked as she shed her own harness.

Macen tapped his comm badge, "Joachim, what's our status?"

"The warp core spiked and automatically shut down like I'd instructed it too." Dracas explained, "We still have the impulse reactors and we're on auxiliary power."

"Can you give me shields?"

Dracas laughed, "Not a chance in hell."

"What about phasers?" Macen enquired.

"As long as you don't use too much power, we should be fine."

"I just want to clear the sky for our air support." Macen informed him.

"If you limit it to a half dozen quarter yield shots, we'll do okay."

"Copy that. Macen out."

Hannah was stretching next to her board and Macen approached her, "Are you in any shape to fly the _Waverider_?"

"I'm fine." Grace assured him, "A little shaken, but who isn't? The question is, will she fly?"

"T'Kir?" Macen prompted.

"The shuttle suffered no damage in the crash. The wall is behind her and she seems able to decouple. The forward torpedo launchers, sensor pallets, auxiliary deflector array and primary deflector array are toast though." T'Kir reported, "Besides the _Waverider_, the impulse reactors and the computer system, only Sickbay seems to be operating at maximum capacity."

"What about the auxiliary shuttlebay?" Grace enquired.

"Shut down to conserve power."

"Can we power it up and launch the Type 9s?" Grace wondered, "We could get Captain Riker and Ceryx to fly them and provide additional air support."

"Good thinking." Macen patted her on the arm, "Contact Riker and Ceryx, see if they're up for it. Then call Dracas and have him divert the necessary power."

"D'you think Tom will do it?" T'Kir asked.

"Why wouldn't he?" Macen asked in reply.

* * *

_I shouldn't do it._ Riker thought, _I should tell Macen where to stick it._ Unfortunately, Riker knew his actions could ultimately save lives so he was honour bound to accept the mission. He might feel slighted by Macen's dismissal of his command decision but that was no reason to take it out on the crew.

He had to seriously consider his future though. He couldn't have Macen undermining his authority all the time. He was still essentially a glorified XO. Macen had even announced his intention of reclaiming the captaincy. So where did that leave him?

Riker needed to seek direction. He needed to talk with Lisea Danan. She was a trained impartial observer. She'd help him sort things out.

Riker made his way to the shuttlebay and met Ceryx there. The reptilian member of the crew still made many crewmembers uneasy but Riker rather liked him. He was affable and easygoing. He was a philosopher and tended to take things in stride.

"Sorry to hear how brief your promotion was." Ceryx cut to the chase, "It is understandable though. Commander Macen is not one to relinquish control of a situation, no matter his intentions."

"So you think he honestly wanted me to be captain and found himself trapped by his own nature?" Riker asked, somewhat in disbelief.

"Commander Macen believes in control." Ceryx replied, "As long as he's aboard, there will only be one commanding officer of this ship and that officer is not you. The question before you is whether or not you can live with that?"

Riker nodded, "Thank you Ceryx. You've helped put things in perspective."

"My pleasure, Captain." Ceryx bowed his head, "Now if you excuse me, my shuttle is ready."

Riker saw that his own shuttle was ready and climbed aboard. Riker was flying the _Eclipse_. The shuttle was named after the ship Riker had commanded back when Macen's Mission Commander and Captain arrangement still worked. Riker could still see it working, he just had to straighten a few things out with Macen…and win the confidence of the crew.

Ceryx flew the _Equinox_. This shuttle was named for the ill-fated _Nova_-class ship that had been drawn into the Delta Quadrant like the _Voyager_. It was Macen's way of trying to redeem the once proud name of a disgraced ship and crew. Macen could be surprisingly sentimental, Riker mused.

The two pilots ran their final checks and double checked the atmospheric seals of their respective ships. Giving the controller a green light, the bay depressurised. The outer doors opened and the open sky stretched out before them. A blast shield arose, separating the two shuttles. Ceryx throttled his ship to full impulse and launched.

Riker activated the shuttle's antigrav and hung in the air while the blast shield descended into the deck. When it was clear, he also exploded out of the bay at full impulse. He brought the shuttle around and could see the damage done to the _Obsidian_. There was a good chance she'd never be spaceworthy again. That saddened Riker but he cleared his thoughts and focussed on the mission ahead.

* * *

"Thank god they're willing to surrender." Johnson said as he sat down in the Mission Specialist chair.

"Thank god there's only three hundred of them aboard." McKinley added, "Between the Romans and our Security forces, we should be able to contain them."

"We also need an engineering detail to go over and review their technology." Johnson insisted.

"I'm sure Caplan will want to lead that detail personally." McKinley said dryly.

Johnson laughed, "I'm certain you're correct."

McKinley turned to Striker, "Jonathan, I want you to lead this mission."

"With pleasure." Striker replied.

"Pilfer their database." McKinley ordered, "See how that monstrosity was built."

"I'm your man." the _Intrepid's_ resident computer genius assured his CO and made to leave.

Delaney started to rise but McKinley stopped him, "Sorry Mr. Delaney. I need you to coordinate the dirtside occupation."

"It's okay." Delaney said, looking forward to the greater challenge.

* * *

Daggit's relief had arrived and now sat at the Tactical station. Macen leaned over her. She still seemed rather shaken by the crash.

"Take it easy and concentrate your fire on the phaser emplacements you can target." he advised.

"Don't worry, sir." she replied, "I'm all right. I'll get the job done."

"I know you will." he said and gave her a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder.

"Hannah, proceed to the _Waverider_ and prepare her for decoupling and launch." Macen ordered, "The rest of you to the armoury to grab what you need. This includes you Lees, as well as Kort and Joachim."

"I'll let `em know." T'Kir announced, "Dracas is going to be pissed though. He and his team are inspecting the damage to the ship."

"Don't worry about it." Macen counselled, "His entire staff is about to get reassigned."

* * *

The Dreadnought lowered its shields and Striker and a team of Security officers materialised on the bridge. Caplan's team of engineers and Security officers simultaneously appeared in Engineering. There less than half a dozen men and women on the bridge, all from various species.

"Who is the Captain?" Striker asked.

A scarred Bajoran stepped forward, "I am. Jokarr Merrit is my name."

"Well, Captain Jokarr, I'm Commander Jonathan Striker. I'm the XO of the _USS Intrepid_. By order of Starfleet regulations and Admiral Robert T. Johnson, I'm placing you and your crew under arrest."

"But we merely defended ourselves." Jokarr protested, "That other Starfleet vessel and those other ships fired first."

"That will be taken into account at your tribunal." Striker assured him, "But your particular crime is conspiracy to commit murder and acting as an accessory to murder."

"Cardassian!" Jokarr cursed.

"I've been called worse by better, sir." Striker calmly replied.

* * *

On board the _Intrepid_, Johnson surveyed the scene, "The Romans have finished shuttling over their occupation crews. Let's send some help Macen's way."

"Good idea." McKinley concurred, "Flight Ops, reroute your squadrons dirtside to give the _Obsidian_ some support."

"You got it." came Liefers' chipper reply.

"I wonder how they're doing down there." Johnson mused.

* * *

Macen and T'Kir joined the SID team in the armoury. Macen had donned his flight jacket and T'Kir her coat. They wouldn't be carrying any weapons other than their sidearms so their presence was necessary for other reasons.

"Abby," Macen addressed Collins, "arm the entire crew. Everyone. Be prepared to repel boarders. With the shields down, they can beam in anywhere they want."

"I was thinking that, sir." Collins confided, "Frankly I'm surprised they haven't already begun."

"Right now they're dividing their forces between boarding parties and internal security teams." Macen replied, "Remember, this is largely an administrative post."

Daggit arrived and went straight for his locker. Macen pulled him aside, "How's Parva?"

Daggit lit up, "Happy as a lark in summer. She was shaken by the impact but they have her triaging the incoming patients and applying first aid. She's really learning to move around in those braces of hers."

"What are the casualties like?" Macen worried.

"Mostly ligament pulls and bruises from not properly securing their crash harnesses." Daggit reported, "Two major concussions, a fractured skull and a few other broken bones from not strapping in at all."

"So," Macen was philosophical, "we got off lightly."

"Pretty much."

Macen turned to Forger, "It's your job to rally the troops and keep the ship secure. I'm counting on you, Shannon."

"You can rely on me." Forger assured him.

"I knew I could." Macen sincerely replied and then turned to address the others. Collins and Danan were helping Radil shrug into her cannon harness. Daggit was replacing his single holster for the one containing the grenade launcher. This was a newer model launcher, designed by Parva just prior to the last mission. It was smaller, half the size of the pump action model. It was a two-barrelled breach loader. It hung in the holster like an oversized pistol.

Macen handed out padds displaying a face and a bio, "This is our query. His name's Hiram Zeist. He's the Operations Manager for Solarian Security Systems and the man responsible for hiring the Iotians to strike Outbound Ventures. We want him alive for questioning. Any questions?"

Dracas fingered his holstered phaser and glanced down at his Bajoran phaser rifle, "Yes, I do. Why am I coming along for this raid?"

"Earlier, I explained to you how we often hire out to Starfleet. The branch of Starfleet that employs us is known as the Special Investigations Division. It is part police department and part covert operations intelligence agency. Most of the people in this room comprise this ship's SID team." Macen revealed, "You're being invited to join that cadre."

"What would my role be?" Dracas asked, "And who else is in it and what are their roles?"

"You would be the team's Engineering Specialist." Macen explained, "Daggit there is the Strategic Operations Specialist. Lisea Danan is our Sciences Specialist. Kort is the Medical Specialist. T'Kir is the Operations Specialist. Captain Riker is the Starship Operations Specialist and I am the Mission Commander and Intelligence Specialist."

"Is Tom still Captain of the ship?" Danan asked archly.

"That depends on whether or not he recovers from his tantrum and still wishes to serve in that capacity." Macen replied.

"I don't see how his protesting your usurping his authority could be called a 'tantrum'." Danan argued.

"You're hardly neutral, Lees." Macen revealed, "You forget, I'm an empath. I can feel your conflicted emotional state regarding this matter."

"Excuse me," Dracas demanded, "can we get back on topic? Why are you offering this to me? You barely know me."

"I've seen what you can do." Macen revealed, "You're a proficient engineer. Not the best I've seen but you're good. You also have military skills. Your Emperor told me you were the finest Centurion in the Star Legions. From what the log recorders showed me of your actions during the attempted take over, I can see why he'd make that assessment. I need team members that can think on their feet and lead others when called to. You qualify on both counts."

Dracas still looked dubious and Macen heaved a sigh, "Look, I only had the luxury of intimately knowing T'Kir, Danan, and Daggit before they joined. Riker was an acquaintance. Every one else was a complete mystery. I'm willing to give it a try. The question is: are you?"

Dracas met Macen's gaze and nodded, "I never refuse a challenge. This seems like the greatest challenge aboard."

"You have no idea." Macen grinned and shook the Roman's hand.

Macen looked around, "Now, shall we be on our way?"

There were general nods and murmurs of assent as the group filed out of the armoury. They proceeded to the turbolift and got off on Deck 4. They walked down the corridor until they reached the airlock door leading to the _Waverider_ shuttle. The name _Paladin_ was emblazoned the door. It slid aside upon request.

Grace was already at the _Paladin's _helm. All the primary systems were up and running. T'Kir slid into OPS. Dracas took a seat at the Engineering station. Macen took the command chair located between all the other stations. Everyone else found a passenger seat to occupy.

The _Waverider_ was intended for ferrying larger groups of scientists dirtside to a planet. It doubled as the Captain's Yacht. It was unarmed but it did possess warp drive. Located in the underside of the primary vessel's saucer section, the _Paladin_ mated virtually seamlessly into the hull. Since typical shuttlecraft could generally handle the personnel load, the _Waverider_ was rarely used.

"Hannah, what's our status?" Macen enquired.

"We lucked out really." Grace turned to face Macen, "Penetrating the wall merely scraped the lower hull and that of the whole lower saucer section. There's been no buckling of the outer hull."

She took a deep breath and plunged on, "Where we really lucked out is when the primary deflector array pushed through the wall, it cleared all obstacles out of our path. We're powered up and ready for deployment."

"Good work, Hannah." Macen said encouragingly, "Let's get underway."

Grace swivelled her seat around to face her controls and murmured to herself, "'Let's get underway'. Just like we _didn't _go through a fortification."

From her left, T'Kir gave her consoling smile, "At least we're still flyin'."

"But will the _Obsidian_ ever lift again?" Grace asked plaintively as she began her checklist.

"Time will tell." T'Kir replied philosophically and began her own checklist.

Dracas ran through his list while prompted by a padd. Finally all three reached the point where it was time to detach the shuttle and fly free. T'Kir detached the air and power umbilicals. Dracas primed the shuttle's antigrav and impulse drives. Grace held her hand over the release control.

In normal spaceflight operations, the _Paladin_ would be manoeuvred away from the main ship by thrusters upon release. In a gravity release, they would plummet for nearly thirty seconds before the antigravs kicked in. After that, it was merely engaging the impulse engines and going forward.

"Release on my mark." Grace said and began a countdown, "Five...four...three...two...one!"

She hit the release control and everyone suddenly felt the ship drop. Although it was only for a few seconds, it felt longer to people used to inertial dampeners. Grace and T'Kir both wore childlike smiles of delight. Macen wore an amused grin as he lounged in his chair. Soon, all too soon for some, the antigravs kicked in and the ship slowed to a halt and hovered in midair.

"Where to, Captain...Commander...whatever you're calling yourself right now?" Grace asked.

"Aim for the corporate headquarters." Macen instructed, _without_ answering the query regarding his title.

"Are we going to ram a building now?" Grace asked plaintively.

"No, Hannah." Macen replied, "We are not going to ram the building. We are, however, going to be falling through it."

Grace looked over at T'Kir, "Do you have any idea of what he's talking about?"

T'Kir shook her head and wore a manic grin, "No. But it should be fun finding out."

Grace shook her head in disgust, "You two are sooo made for each other."

"Ain't it great?" T'Kir responded perkily.

"Don't you two ever not get along?" Grace asked as she cut in the impulse engines...

"All the time." T'Kir smiled, "We just try to keep our fights between us."

"Good." Grace said, "Too much perfection is annoying."

"That include you?" T'Kir queried.

Grace ignored her and hailed Shannon Forger as the _Obsidian _unleashed another brace of phaser blasts at an air defence tower. Rather than aim at the phaser bank itself, Forger had opted to blow up the base of the tower. It collapsed, gauging into the Solarian base of operations as it went down.

"Hey _Obsidian_, you about done? We've deployed and are headed for the primary structure." Grace asked.

"I see you, _Paladin_." Forger replied, "That was the last tower within range. The _Eclipse_ and the _Equinox_ are already ahead of you, holding the potential boarders at bay."

"Roger that, _Obsidian_." Grace acknowledged, "I have a visual of the situation."

"Be advised _Paladin_, the shuttles are being overwhelmed." Forger informed her, "I don't recommend a landing at this time."

"Acknowledged _Obsidian_." Grace said, "_Paladin _command concurs. We are attempting an alternative method of landing."

"What kind of 'alternative' _Paladin_?" Forger asked.

"I have no idea." Grace admitted, "But it's sure to be memorable with the way today's going."

Forger laughed, "Roger that, _Paladin_. Keep safe."

"Plan on it, _Obsidian_, thanks." Grace cut the circuit and called out to Macen, "We're coming up on the building's outer walls. What do we do?"

"Climb above the roof." Macen ordered.

"And land on the roof." Grace said with approval. She touched the controls and brought them above the roof, and directly into the sights of the remaining air defence phaser arrays. They immediately opened fired and Grace quickly plunged the shuttle below their line of sight.

"Shields are nearly gone." T'Kir reported.

Ozone filled the air and Dracas announced, "Several subsystems have been fused."

"Bring us level with the 14th floor." Macen ordered.

"I don't like this plan already." Grace muttered.

"Wait for it, then decide." T'Kir suggested.

"Level with the 14th floor." Grace reported, "May I ask why?"

"According to Solarian's own advertisements, the 14th floor contains the heart of their operations centre." Macen explained, "We're going to enter here and storm the centre."

"May I point out that there is an entire wall of glass separating us from the interior of the building?" Dracas pointed out.

"Which makes it a time for bold initiative, wouldn't you say?" Macen asked in reply.

Dracas settled down, a tight smile forming on his lips. Grace turned around, "How are you planning on wrecking my shuttle?"

"First I want you bring us in closer, nose first." Macen explained, "Then I want you to swing us about, gauging the plate glass with the wing and giving it a direct blast from the impulse thrusters. Next, we'll withdraw away from the hole and come alongside. Using the impulse thrusters you'll wedge us into that hole. That done, we'll just pop the main hatch and enter the 14th floor."

"Are you insane?" Grace asked, "No, wait, you've already proven that today."

"Hannah, I'm not insane, merely determined." Macen replied evenly, "You've always trusted me in the past, even when it cost the life of a ship. Ours can rise above and live again. I don't see what your objections are based on."

"I'm just tired of losing ships, even little ones." Grace admitted.

"So am I." Macen revealed, "C'mon Hannah, the _Obsidian_ was my dream command. You don't think I'd cripple her and leave her to rot do you? Would I do that to any of you? That ship's as much a member of this team as any sentient."

Mollified, Grace asked, "When do you want me to hit the building?"

"ASAP." Macen replied.

Grace swung the shuttle out and then brought in closer until the nose was nearly touching the reflective glass panes, "We'll teach them not to use transparent aluminium."

She set the shuttle in a spin and it shook when the wing began its swathe of destruction. The impulse thrusters blew the debris away as the passed. The second wing finished what the first had started and once again the thrusters did their work. Grace then brought the starboard side of the shuttle even with the gaping wound in the side of the otherwise pristine building face.

Directing all of her thrusters sideways at maximum power, Grace hurled the shuttle into the side of the building. It shoved half of itself into the structure and then ground to a halt. Grace shut down her systems.

"You wanted in." she said as she swivelled around to face Macen, "We're in. We scratched the paint but otherwise we came out fine. Of course we'll have to be tractored out of this hole."

Macen smiled, "Excellent work Hannah."

Macen swivelled his seat around so that he was facing the passenger section, "Get ready people, the real work is about to begin."

Macen turned to face Grace, "I want you to come too Hannah."

"Who'll guard the shuttle?" she wondered.

"I'm leaving Kort with the shuttle."

"Here now!" Kort protested, "I'm the field medic. I should be in the field."

"Joachim, is the transporter operational?" Macen enquired.

"It's active." Dracas answered, "I don't see any reason why it shouldn't work."

"What's he know about transporters?" Kort demanded, "The Romans don't have them."

"He's passed Starfleet's examination on transporter maintenance and operation." Macen disclosed, "I don't know how he does it, but as long as he can, I'm going to use it."

"Now you are going to set up a field hospital in here and transport the wounded to you where they can be safely treated." Macen ordered.

"This is because of Parva." Kort said in resignation.

"Partly." Macen confessed, "But mostly it's about you. I want to see how you'll react to the pressures of waiting."

"I won't disappoint you." Kort vowed.

"I don't expect you to." Macen replied, "All right people, saddle up."

"Wait a minute." Grace advised, "Something's coming in over the Starfleet guard channel."

They all listened in to the chatter on the subspace transceiver, "Attention _Obsidian_ forces, this is the Alpha and Gamma flights of the _USS Intrepid_. We are inbound and we are aware of you situation. Our sensors reveal you have three shuttles deployed. Two are actively engaged in a firefight and the third has collided with the central building."

"We are receiving fire from planetary defence phaser arrays. Alpha flight will deal with these. What requests do you have for Gamma flight?"

Forger's voice replied, "This is _Obsidian_, requesting that Gamma flight allow our shuttles to withdraw and then proceed with crowd suppression."

"Roger that. We register a large crowd approaching your vicinity. Can you confirm that these are hostiles?"

. "Hostile status confirmed. _Obsidian_ advises heavy stun to neutralise the crowd until ground forces arrive."

"Copy that. Gamma flight will comply. Alpha leader out."

"Now why couldn't they have come ten minutes earlier?" Grace whined, "Then we could have landed on the roof."

"But now you get to brag up how you landed _inside_ a building." Macen grinned, "Now c'mon, we're proceeding with Hiram Zeist's detention and arrest."

Everyone gathered by the door. Daggit and Radil stood to either side of the hatch, phaser cannon and rifle ready. The hatch opened to reveal a wrecked space. Walls had been sheared as well as the outer glass. The debris was all pushed along the opposite wall.

Grace whistled, "I'm glad no one was in here."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." T'Kir countered knelt down and held up a coffee mug. Its interior was still slick from the liquid it had contained. A streak of spilled coffee pointed towards an overturned table and piled up office chairs, "Looks like they had time to run for it though."

"Remember," Macen advised, "These people were hired to kill us. They may not be using the stun setting on their weapons."

"D'we?" T'Kir asked.

"For as long as possible." Macen half-answered.

They reached the exit out of the room and they had to clear some debris out of the way. Radil and Daggit took up their previous positions. Everyone had their weapons drawn.

"Beyond this is Tholian country." Macen remarked and there were a few smiles upon hearing the old adage.


	29. Chapter 29

183

"Alpha Leader to Alpha flight, form up and select your targets." The squadron commander told her wingmates.

The twelve _Peregrine_-class fighters formed two staggered columns of varied elevation. They dove for the deck and buzzed the angry mob below. Sonic booms bowled over dozens of people. Then the fighters climbed, unleashing volleys of microtorpedoes and pulsed phaser fire. It was a clean sweep. All of the defensive phaser batteries were destroyed.

Alpha squadron regrouped at an altitude of twenty-five kilometres and began a Combat Air Patrol to insure air superiority. No sudden lift-offs of Solarian personnel would get by. Now it was Gamma squadron's turn.

Gamma flight came in low and slow. Barely clearing the defensive walls, the squadron was divided into three groups of delta wings. One went west the other east and flew north alongside the building. The remaining delta wing split in half, two fighters each following the primary wings.

Their phasers were set at their lowest level: heavy stun. The fighters swooped down upon the crowds. Pulsed phaser fire tore through the security and office personnel. Dozens fled, dozens more were left insensate upon the ground. Gamma squadron broke, regrouped and began a slow circular patrol of the installation's courtyard. Riker and Ceryx began returned to their positions hovering before the fallen _Obsidian_.

* * *

On the bridge of the _Obsidian_, the gamma shift OPS officer reported to Shannon Forger, "XO, there's an incoming transmission from Admiral Scipio."

"Put it on the main screen." Forger ordered.

A rather pleased looking Scipio appeared on the main viewer. He saw Forger seated in the XO's seat and began to search the image displayed on his own monitor.

"Where is Macen?" he demanded.

"Commander Macen is currently within the Solarian headquarters attempting to apprehend the Operations Manager." Forger answered matter-of-factly.

"Does he require assistance?" Scipio eagerly enquired, "We are useless here."

"We could use some help with riot control." Forger replied.

"We're on our way!" Scipio declared and terminated the transmission.

"Heaven help us." Forger murmured, "What have I just unleashed?"

* * *

"Sir, the Nova Roman ships are breaking position and moving towards the planet." the _Intrepid's _Wen reported.

"What the hell do they think they're doing?" McKinley asked.

"I suppose they think they're supporting Macen's effort on the planet." Johnson replied with a shrug, "We'll never know until we ask."

"Mr. Delaney, hail the Roman flagship." McKinley said with a tinge of anger in his voice, "I want to talk to Admiral Scipio."

There was a slight delay as Delaney conferred with the Roman Communications Officer. When he finished he addressed McKinley, "All right, I have Admiral Scipio."

"Put it on the main screen." McKinley decided.

An irritated Scipio appeared on the viewer, "Yes, gentlemen? How can I assist you?"

"You can start by explaining why you're departing the combat area." McKinley stated.

"I do not answer to subordinates." Scipio sniffed, "What does Admiral Johnson have to say?"

Johnson rose from the Mission Specialist's seat and moved in front of McKinley so he'd be the focus of the viewer's visual pick up, "I have the same question, Admiral."

Johnson could feel McKinley bristle behind him as Scipio answered, "We are no longer needed here, your men have secured the enemy ship and we have received word that Macen needs us. The orders of my Emperor are explicit: I am to follow Macen and protect him as I would my own liege."

"I would feel more comfortable if you were to leave behind one of your starships to support our boarding action." Johnson asserted.

"One does not enter combat to seek comfort." Scipio sneered.

"One does not abandon one's allies in a moment of need either." Johnson countered.

Johnson knew by Scipio's torn reaction that he had played his trump card. Classic Roman virtues demanded strict adherence to their concepts of duty, loyalty and honour. Johnson had placed Scipio in a position where his only chance of fulfilling his sworn duty was to accede to Johnson's request. Johnson almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Very well." Scipio decided, "What role will my men have?"

"They'll augment our boarding party and hold station to insure that we have a crossfire in case of the crew overpowering our troops and reigniting the remaining warp core." Johnson explained.

"The crew will _not_ overcome my soldiers." Scipio replied with stolid confidence, "You have your ship and your support personnel. Do you require anything else?"

"No." Johnson replied with a tight smile, "That should be everything."

Scipio broke into a feral smile, "Good. I have other pressing duties to attend to."

The transmission terminated suddenly and Johnson turned to face McKinley, "I guess we're done."

"'Overpowering our _troops_'?" McKinley repeated.

Johnson shrugged as he retook his seat, "You have to appeal to the mentality, Jim. You should know that better than most."

McKinley bowed his head, "Yes, O wise _sensei_."

Johnson laughed, "Let's call Striker and get an update on his progress."

"Sounds good." McKinley agreed.

* * *

Macen led the SID procession. He held his phaser in a two handed grip. He moved slowly, alert to every sight and sound around. The team was approaching the third corner they'd encountered since entering the Solarian Operations Centre.

The building was laid out in two sections, a central rectangular space with no visible entrances as of yet. The outer section was comprised of surrounding offices and conference rooms. The offices all seem to be deserted. It made sense in way. A building layout posted on a wall listed an underground bunker in the subbasement. Administrative personnel would generally be deemed as non-combatants during an assault on the centre and be assigned places in the bunker.

Macen came up to the corner and placed his left shoulder against the wall. He barely peered around the corner. He brought his head back almost immediately. Macen turned to Rab Daggit, who stood next to him.

"Ask Radil to step up." Macen whispered.

Radil moved up from her place in the processional and asked in a whisper, "What is it?"

"Guards." Macen explained, "Six of them. They have portable barricades erected and they appear to be guarding an entrance into the central core of this floor."

"What are your orders?" Daggit asked.

"Actually I was looking for your recommendation." Macen admitted, "Let's scan their position and see if they have any hidden surprises and then you can give me your battle plan."

Daggit thinly smiled, "My thoughts exactly."

T'Kir stepped forward and flipped open her tricorder. She switched places with Macen. Holding the tricorder as close to the edge of the corner without crossing over to the visible range, she activated the scan function. She quickly deactivated the active scan, silencing the tricorder and held the device closer to inspect the results.

"Bad news." she frowned, "Those barricades are made of duranium. We don't have anything big enough to blast through them."

"Then we'll just have to keep their heads down until we can get close enough to neutralise them." Daggit said. He grew cold and feral. The psychological conditioning imposed upon him years before was displaying itself as he readied himself for combat. His transformation completed itself and he was now the perfect soldier, a motivated and physically enhanced killing machine.

"Remember Rab, we want them alive." Macen advised Daggit.

"If you insist." Daggit said with a tinge of disappointment, "Here's my plan: I'll take the opposite wall. Radil you take centre. Captain, you take the left. Fire at anything that moves. We need them to cower until we can surmount their barricades."

"Sounds doable." Macen nodded, "Let's get on with it."

Daggit sprinted over to the opposing side of the corridor. He stopped short of running into the wall and began firing at the surprised guards. Radil walked out into the centre of the passageway, firing her cannon the entire time. Macen spun around the corner and began shooting at the security personnel's position.

* * *

Herb Tanner was a Sergeant in the Solarian Security Forces. He'd been the top graduate of his basic training class. He'd been rapidly promoted and had deployed with the Solarian fleet several times as a squad leader of the shipboard Marines. Up until this moment, he'd never faced an obstacle he couldn't easily overcome.

Beside him crouched his second in command, Frederick "Freddie" Jones. Jones had graduated second in the same class as Tanner. He and Tanner had become fast friends. With a life almost as charmed as Tanner's, his career had closely followed Tanner's throughout their service records. What happened to Tanner would inevitably happen to Jones.

Jones leaned in towards Tanner, "No one said anything about going up against a phaser cannon."

Tanner grimly smiled, "It was in my briefing. I was ordered to stay silent."

"You could have made an exception." Jones bitterly complained, "My security clearance is as high as yours."

Tanner shrugged, "My orders came from the top. Sorry chum."

"Doesn't make it right." Jones grumbled.

"All right people!" Tanner shouted, "Let's take these bastards!"

All six guards rose as one. Tanner and Jones were in the centre of the group. Macen stunned one on the left. Daggit took the two furthest right. Radil hit Tanner squarely in the chest, knocking him backward. Jones watched his friend hurtle away and swore. Radil neatly picked him off next. It was funny how some things remained a constant. The remaining two guards dropped their weapons and put their hands on top of their heads.

Daggit rushed forward. He pulled the first guard's hands behind her back and slipped a pair of binders around her wrists. He then repeated the exercise with the other security officer.

"They're secured, sir" Daggit crisply reported.

Macen called for the others to rejoin their comrades. He approached the two Solarian employees.

"Give me the access code to this door." Macen demanded.

"Go _frinx_ yourself!" the female guard snarled.

Macen smirked humourlessly, "Rab, reset your rifle to 'disrupt' and shoot her in the foot."

"That won't kill me." the guard countered.

"No." Macen said, "But it will hurt like hell."

Daggit shouldered his rifle and took aim. The guard began to plead.

"You wouldn't shoot me." she said as innocently as she could to Daggit, "I'm a woman."

Daggit shrugged, "Equality of the sexes. Now don't distract me or they'll have to amputate your foot."

"I'll talk!" the guard was sweating now, "The code is 12NEXUS6BAKER."

Macen smiled, "Thank you. You've been most cooperative."

Macen turned to T'Kir, "Do you want the honours? You do love to push buttons."

"In more ways then one." she remarked with a smile.

"I'll take point." Macen instructed, "T'Kir follow me in followed by Joachim."

"Yo." T'Kir remarked.

"It will be done." Dracas replied.

"Hannah, Lees, come on in when the shooting stops." Macen ordered, "Rab, Radil, hold the corridor."

"Yes sir." Daggit nodded once in acknowledgement.

"Sure." Radil agreed.

Macen turned to T'Kir, who stood in front of the door's keypad, "Ready?"

"Whenever, whatever." she flashed him an impish smile.

"Punch it in." Macen ordered. The door slid aside and Macen rushed in, his phaser held before him in a two-handed grip.

A security officer began to bring his rifle to bear and Macen shot him. He continued moving into the Operations Command and Control room. T'Kir came up behind him. Dracas followed.

A tech moved out of his seat and T'Kir stunned him. Another tech broke and ran. Macen gunned her down. A third tech made for the weapons locker. T'Kir levelled her pistol and picked him off with a single-handed shot.

"There doesn't appear to be much for me to do." Dracas remarked dryly as silence descended over the room.

The room was immense. The opposing wall from the entrance mounted a massive viewer. The viewer extended several metres out from the wall. The room's lights were angled away from the viewer panel in order to enhance its imagery. A stygian shadow fell beneath the massive piece of equipment.

The rest of the room was arranged around a circular rotunda. Various techs from dozens of worlds sat at the workstations forming a semi-circle around the rotunda. Two figures stood in the rotunda, a human and a Chalnoth. The Chalnoth seemed on the verge of frenzy.

"Hiram Zeist, I presume?" Macen dryly asked.

"You know who I am, Macen." Zeist answered angrily, "Get on with it, if you can get past my compatriot here."

The Chalnoth shifted his weight from foot to foot in anticipation. Dracas came to stand beside Macen.

"Allow me." Dracas urged, "You have other matters to attend to."

"Be my guest." Macen said with a lopsided smile.

"Come beast." Dracas holstered his phaser and drew his sword, "Come face a warrior of Magna Roma."

The Chalnoth snarled his acceptance of the challenge, "I welcome the opportunity to make you my meat for the evening meal."

"You have a name?" Dracas enquired.

"Grix Wilsce." the Chalnoth replied, "Remember it as you die."

Wilsce cast aside his disruptor and drew two long knives from sheaths on his back. The Chalnoth rushed forward with a roaring battle cry. Dracas angled one foot ahead of the other and turned slightly to meet the incoming charge.

The fight was joined with Dracas stepping back to allow the Chalnoth time to expend the energy of his headlong rush to battle. Dracas was fighting with one hand, deftly blocking and parrying a flurry of stabbing thrusts. The flash and clang of metal upon metal filled the chamber.

* * *

"Get down!" Grace yelled and fired down the corridor at the six-man Solarian Security team that had just turned the corner. Danan dropped to one knee but Daggit and Radil merely turned and opened fire. The entire squad was incapacitated in a matter of moments.

Danan rose and surveyed the damage, "Glad you left some for me."

Radil gave her a wry smile, "Happy to accommodate."

Daggit peered into the C-in-C and observed how quiet it was, "Shouldn't you two be running along now? We'll man the ramparts."

Grace grabbed hold of Danan's arm and began dragging her through the doorway, "Come on!"

They passed through the threshold and came upon T'Kir keeping a watchful eye out on the techs at their posts. T'Kir cast a glance over her shoulder.

"Glad you ladies could make it." she said with a grin, "Mind helping me baby-sit?"

"Glad to." Danan replied as Grace turned her attention towards Dracas.

"Shouldn't we help him?" Grace asked.

"Nah." T'Kir's grin grew wider, "It's good exercise. He's getting his frustrations out. Leave the lad alone and let him get on with it."

"What's Brin up to?" Danan asked.

"He's arresting the man we came after." T'Kir nodded in the direction of Macen climbing up to the rotunda Zeist occupied.

"It's over Zeist." Macen said with finality, "We have the Iotian records. Your little criminal operation is over."

"You don't know what you're getting into Macen." Zeist laughed, "You won't arrest me."

"Because I'll have a generous change of heart I suppose?" Macen remarked.

"No." Zeist smiled triumphantly, "Because _he_ won't let you."

Macen followed Zeist's gaze and it led to the area beneath the viewer. Macen's eyes narrowed. As he peered into the darkness he realised that something, or someone, was moving down there. Macen drew his phaser and aimed it at the mysterious shape.

"Come out." he called, "You've been made. Resisting will only result in you getting a phaser burn and a headache."

"Really mammal?" a raspy voice sneered, "I thought it would end in your death."

Macen's right eyebrow rose. There was something familiar about that voice. Something from the past. Something bad.

"Have you not realised it yet?" the voice continued, "Your cause is lost. No matter how many times you think you defeat us, we will arise from the ashes to conquer you anew."

Macen almost had it when the figure strode out of the darkness. His loinclothed onyx body made it abundantly _what_ Macen's opponent was. He faced an Omicron, one that had escaped the Kelvans' annihilation of his people's fleet. As Macen studied the Omicron, the source of that voice came back to him.

"Ezexial." Macen spoke the other's name as realisation dawned.

Ezexial's face curled up in the Omicron's grimacing approximation of a smile, "Ah, the mammal remembers. I have much to owe you for. First you destroyed my ambitions on Magna Roma. Then you disrupted my plans for the Maquis resurgence."

Ezexial's eyes narrowed into slits to match his "nose", "Finally, you ignited the fires of destruction that engulfed my people. My day is at hand. Now I shall repay you many kindnesses with the agony they deserve."

Macen thumbed his phaser up to maximum power, "I can still kill you."

"I think not." Ezexial replied and vaulted from the floor towards the rotunda. He grabbed hold of the railing and swung his legs over. Landing on his feet, he swung a backhand at Macen. The blow caught the El-Aurian's hands, knocking the phaser free.

Ezexial chuckled darkly, "Now you are mine."

* * *

"These Romans are damned effective." Striker grinned as he reported via subspace radio, "As soon as they cleared their shuttles they cowed the dreadnought's crew and herded them into the cargo bays literally at the point of a sword."

"Careful, we don't know anything about them." McKinley advised, "Keep your people sharp. Report back to me when Commander Caplan is ready to report his findings on the ship's design and origin."

"Aye sir." Striker acknowledged, then hesitated before speaking, "But as far as these Romans go, isn't now a good time to introduce ourselves. We do seem to have an alliance with them for the moment."

McKinley rubbed his chin, "We'll take it under consideration and get back to you with definitive orders. McKinley out."

* * *

As the viewer switched back to its rendering of the dreadnought McKinley leaned over towards Johnson and he spoke in hushed tones, "What about it, Bob? The lid does seem blown off regarding the Romans, proscribed planet or not."

Johnson ran a hand through his hair, "My orders regarding this contingency are pretty clear. We limit initial contact and ask for a diplomatic courtesy call to their planet."

"With us as the wielders of the olive branch as soon as we've finished with the Iotians." it was a statement not a question.

Johnson chuckled, "Of course. Such is the curse of being me. You get the privilege of coming along for the ride."

"Lucky us." McKinley laughed.

"I knew you'd see it my way." Johnson smiled

McKinley turned back around towards Liefers, "Flight Ops, what's the status of our fighters?"

"They dispersed an angry mob and are currently holding station for further ground support and air superiority." Liefers reported.

"Excellent." McKinley smiled, "Have them continue holding station and warn them to expect company. The Romans will soon begin landing operations to disembark ground troops. Have them report events and await further orders."

"Aye sir." Liefers crisply acknowledged.

McKinley turned to Johnson, "Now it seems everything depends upon Macen."

Johnson sighed, "That's what scares me."


	30. Chapter 30

198

Dracas blocked another stabbing thrust and Wilsce roared his frustration. He raised his arm and brought it down in a slashing motion. Dracas sidestepped the attack and delivered a backhanded blow that severed the Chalnoth's arm just below the elbow. Frothing at the mouth, Wilsce charged the Roman with his knife suspended over his head. Dracas took the head from the body with a single sweeping arc of his sword.

"Farewell beast." Dracas intoned, "You were a noble opponent." Looking up, he saw Macen battling a towering, raven black monster. Dracas surged forward and made for the rotunda.

* * *

"Shoot him!" Danan insisted.

"I'd like to but he and Brin are weaving around each other too much." T'Kir replied angrily, "I'm as likely to shoot Brin as I am that Omicron."

Grace kept her weapon trained on the battling duo but held her fire for the same reason. Bitterly she muttered, "If I only had my damned Attuner."

T'Kir glanced at her but kept her own counsel.

Macen ducked underneath a right cross. The advantage of fighting a two metre tall alien was that he couldn't easily stoop to your level. The major disadvantage was that the alien in question had the musculature to go with that frame. So far, Macen had done a fine job of alluding Ezexial's blows but he was tiring and his reflexes were slowing.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dracas pass Zeist as the Solarian man exited the rotunda and the Roman entered. Dracas stopped and called out to Macen.

Macen spun around to face Dracas, "Sword!"

Dracas immediately understood and tossed his sword towards Macen. Ezexial saw his opportunity to strike while his enemy was turned and stepped forward. Macen deftly caught the sword's handle and thrust the sword blade behind him.

Ezexial gasped as the sword plunged into his abdomen up into his heart. Macen pulled the sword free, turned and stepped back. Ezexial fell to his knees. Macen stepped forward and swept the blade across the Omicron's throat. Black blood sprayed forth from the severed arteries in Ezexial's neck and he fell face forward into the floor.

Macen impassively turned away and handed Dracas back his sword, "Thanks."

Dracas smiled, "I couldn't let my new commander get killed."

"Now," Macen grew intent, "where did Zeist get off to?"

* * *

"Lieutenant," the Alpha Squadron lead said via subspace, "We have the shuttles in sight. They are arranging themselves for landing and deployment."

"Copy that." Liefers voice replied, "Monitor the situation but do not engage."

"Aye ma'am." the pilot responded, "Alpha Lead out."

* * *

The Roman shuttles arranged themselves around the Solarian building. The only place they avoided was where the _Obsidian_ lay beached and her two shuttles where standing watch. They landed and before they were settled the rear ramps lowered and Roman Star Legionnaires rushed out. They immediately formed a cordon around the assembled Solarian employees.

"Steady." The presiding Centurion commanded, "Do not engage until ordered to do so." His communicator transmitted his orders to every Legionnaire.

As the Romans settled in, an upper story window was smashed and a Security officer appeared sporting a shoulder mounted photon missile. He fired at the _Eclipse_ and struck the rear of the shuttle. The aft section exploded into a fireball and the shuttle crashed to the ground.

The Centurion witnessed and activated his communicator, "All units engage! Repeat, all units engage. Do not kill unless forced to. We want prisoners."

* * *

Riker saw the approaching missile but there was no time to do anything beside duck. The rear of the shuttle exploded and flames licked at him. Fortunately, Starfleet seats were designed to withstand fire. He stayed bent as the shuttle plummeted to the earth. A bone jarring crash awaited him.

Shaken, battered and bruised, Riker unstrapped his crash harness and blew the emergency hatch. The canopy of the shuttle flew away from the shuttle. Riker climbed over the instrument console to get out. Once settled on the ground he realised that a small group of Solarian employees were rushing to his position.

Suddenly grateful at Macen's insistence that the SID personnel always go armed, he drew his phaser and began mowing down the oncoming rush. Stunning them all, he began searching the building face in time to see the Solarian Security man aiming a reloaded missile launcher at his location. Riker began to run and ran until the missile slammed into the battered shuttle. The concussion wave knocked Riker off of his feet and onto the ground.

* * *

Zeist tried rushing past the SID ladies' trio but T'Kir swung his way and aimed her phaser squarely at him, "Give me a reason. I'm pissed, frustrated, and looking for someone to shoot so make a move."

Zeist wisely decided that discretion truly was the better part of valour, "I surrender."

"Too bad." T'Kir growled.

Grace spun Zeist around and pulled his hands behind his back. She locked his wrists into a set of binders and held him there as Macen and Dracas approached.

"Not bad Hannah." Macen grinned, "You may have a future in ground ops after all."

Grace smiled, "Thank you."

Macen moved towards T'Kir, "What do you think you can make these computers reveal?"

"I'll make `em spin and dance." she confidently replied.

"Then let's clear the room shall we?" Macen replied and turned to face the cowering Solarian techs. Loudly he proclaimed, "Everyone evacuate now!"

The mad rush towards the door ensued as the SID team members cleared out of the way. They heard shrieks as the panicked employees encountered Daggit and Radil. As the stampede took them towards the lifts Radil poked her head into the CinC.

"What the hell was that?"

"Just clearing the air, Jenrya." Macen grinned.

"Next time warn us." she admonished, "We almost shot those people."

"Noted." Macen said.

T'Kir strode towards the workstations and began inspecting them. She started at one end of the semicircle and worked her way all the way around. Moving back around, she picked a station and sat down at it.

She cracked her knuckles and pulled her microcomputer out of its pouch on her belt, "Let's introduce you to my homemade decrypting recipes."

Plugging her computer into the station OND port, she began instructing the computer to upload her programs. Once it did so, the tapeworms attached to the software began rewriting the access codes. She pulled open the main library menu and began searching for active operations plans. Finding that category, she unleashed her decryption algorithms upon the security protocols.

Macen came up behind her, "Any luck?"

"My critters are working on it." T'Kir assured him, "We'll know within the hour. D'you really think they'd be so stupid as to put incriminating evidence on their database?"

"They're arrogant." Macen observed, "They never thought anyone would get this far."

"It'll be good for us if you're right."

Macen grinned, "Trust me. Now, I have to interrogate Zeist."

"Need any help?" T'Kir wondered.

"Nah." Macen replied, "I've got Joachim. He'll get results."

T'Kir rolled her eyes, "If he doesn't dismember him trying to get the info."

Macen smiled, "Either way, we win."

Macen left T'Kir to her work and strolled back to the others, "Hannah, you want to keep T'Kir company while she waits for results?"

An already exuberant Grace vigorously nodded her head and scooted off. Macen shook his head and continued his trek. He stopped when he came up to Zeist.

"Hiram," Macen said congenially, "let's have a little chat."

"I have nothing to say to you." Zeist was indignant.

"Don't be so petty, Hiram." Macen continued unfazed.

"Why should I incriminate myself?" Zeist countered.

"You're already incriminated by the Iotian records we have." Macen informed him, "Think of this as confessional."

"As what?" Zeist was confused.

"Confessional." Macen began to expound, "A religious custom from Earth. Still practiced on a few of the colony worlds despite the tradition falling out of favour on Earth."

"What does this 'confessional' involve?" Zeist was suspicious now.

"In the actual practice the confessor would divulge all the wrongdoings they had done." Macen continued his lesson, "The priest hearing the confession would then absolve the confessor from all wrongdoings and be sworn to secrecy as to what had been divulged."

"So, you're saying if I make a confession to you you'll take it and go after my superiors and let me off the hook?" Zeist had a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Hiram, Hiram, Hiram," Macen clucked as he reached out and put his hand on the other man's shoulder, "you are still going to have to go to trial. I _will_ report that you cooperated and testify to that effect. What happens after that will be up to the jury."

"That's not much incentive." Zeist grumbled.

Macen's smile turned feral, "Then think of it as self-preservation."

"What do you mean?" a suddenly worried Zeist enquired.

Macen stepped back and nodded towards Dracas, "See this man? He's a soldier, born and bred. That sword is more than decoration. As your Chalnoth friend discovered, he's quite adept with it."

"What does this have to do with me?" Zeist shifted uncomfortably.

"If you won't cooperate for the sake of your soul then do it for your flesh." Macen said harshly, "I will let him shave of pieces of you until you talk."

"You're bluffing." Zeist rebutted with renewed confidence.

"Joachim, repeat your interrogation technique from the bridge." Macen ordered.

Dracas drew his sword and stepped forward. He drew back his arm with the blade readied for a stabbing thrust into Zeist's leg. He hesitated ever so briefly and Zeist saw the resolve in the Roman's eyes.

"I'll talk!" Zeist screamed as his bladder released. Dracas stood still as stone. Macen gently touched his shoulder.

"Thank you, Joachim. I'll take it from here."

Zeist's knees buckled. Macen knelt down. Zeist looked up at him, still shaking.

"He was going to stab me!"

"Yes, he was." Macen calmly replied.

"You were going to let him."

"Yes, I was." Macen was still resolute.

"You're insane." Zeist gasped.

Macen turned pensive, "Officially, I am."

Zeist wearily shook his head, "What do you want from me?"

"Why was Ezexial here?" Macen demanded, "What was your arrangement with him?"

Zeist nodded forlornly, "All right. Here's what I know…"

* * *

"The Romans are doing what?" Liefers exclaimed.

"What's going on?" a suddenly concerned McKinley demanded.

Liefers swivelled to face him, "Someone swatted one of the SID shuttles and the Romans just went berserk. They're attacking everyone."

"Oh hell." McKinley muttered and turned towards Johnson, "I told you this was a bad idea."

"We'll see." Johnson sagely replied.

"Tactical, raise Commander Striker." McKinley ordered.

Delaney manipulated the communication controls on his board and waited, "I have Commander Striker, sir."

"Commander?" McKinley asked the open comm circuit.

"Striker here, Captain." Striker replied.

"How secure is your situation?" McKinley asked.

"I'd hate to even be a rat on this ship." Striker chuckled.

"We'll be moving off to deal with a situation developing on the planet." McKinley announced, "Can you hold?"

"We can hold indefinitely." Striker assured his CO, "What's going on?"

"The Romans on the surface have gone insane. We're mobilising to stop them."

"Good luck." Striker replied, "These guys put Klingons to shame."

"Are you suggesting that we're outmatched?" McKinley wondered.

"No, just advising you to be cautious." Striker explained.

"Duly noted." McKinley acknowledged, "Take a note from your own advice and call us immediately if the Romans aboard the dreadnought so much as twitch."

"Yes sir." Striker replied to McKinley's satisfaction.

""Lt. Pedrossi, take us into orbit." McKinley ordered.

"Aye sir." Pedrossi replied. Maintaining a stationary position near the crippled dreadnought had become tedious and Pedrossi was grateful for the chance to at least do _something _for a minute.

* * *

"Here's what I know," Zeist said dully, "Ezexial approached one of our representatives and suggested that he was interested in hiring us. He offered the corporation access to exotic technology in exchange for our services. He gave the representative several handheld weapons as an example of what he was offering."

"Can you help me up?" Zeist requested, "I'm kneeling in a puddle of my own piss."

Macen stood, "Joachim?" The engineer took hold of one of Zeist's arms and firmly helped hoist the Solarian agent off the floor,

"Thank you." Zeist said weakly, "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Special Services contacted Ezexial via the transponder he'd left us. It seemed to be alive. The techies were going ballistic over it. Any way, Ezexial returned to the office he'd originally approached and arranged a meeting. He travelled to Earth and met with the CEO and the Board."

"Ezexial reached Earth?" Macen growled.

"Solarian used one of their own ships to bring him." Zeist shrugged, "The bigwigs were drooling over the weaponry Ezexial had given to us. I was present at the meeting. Ezexial stood calmly as the maintenance people adjusted a chair to fit his frame. After sitting down, he dropped the bombshell on us."

"Which was?" Macen prompted.

"He knew about our operational arrangement with the Iotians." Zeist chuckled darkly, "The CEO denied it and Ezexial presented sensor records and visuals of a meeting between one of our ships and an Iotian raider. A report of the Iotians' engagement was given and they received payment for their services. No one could explain how he'd done this."

Zeist shook his head, "He said, 'This is why I have chosen you. You have the fortitude and mentality that I require. In exchange I will offer you the keys to the heavens themselves.' The Board could only drool as Ezexial described some of the 'credit' he was offering. He offered so much and all we had to do was one job."

"Which was to destroy Outbound Ventures, right?" Macen asked with disgust.

Zeist sighed and nodded, "Exactly. He wanted your company, and you in particular, killed or neutralised."

"How did you build that dreadnought so fast?" Macen enquired.

Zeist wore a ghost of a smirk, "It's all modular. We hired over fifty companies to simultaneously build a piece of it. We'd just finished fusing the hull plating together a week ago. We didn't even know if the damned thing would work when you showed up."

"It didn't." Macen replied flatly.

"You cheated." Zeist laughed, "You were supposed to be alone."

"Such is life." Macen said and he turned to Dracas, "Watch him." He crooked his finger towards Danan, "Follow me."

Danan took a deep breath and hurried to catch up with Macen. Walking beside him, she leaned over.

"You were really going to let Joachim stab him." she whispered.

"Yup."

"They'd never be able to try him if that happened." she pointed out.

Macen stopped and smiled at her, "But he'd never want to do it again now would he?"

Danan stood there at a loss as Macen returned to the rotunda. She shook her head and quickened her step to join him. She dispassionately observed the gory scene.

"You certainly leave much to chance did you?" she remarked.

"I didn't have much a choice. He was stronger and faster." Macen replied.

"So why am I here?" Danan enquired.

"You always said you'd like to study Omicron physiology." Macen said earnestly as he waited for her reaction.

"You're kidding." Danan's eyebrows rose.

"Nope." Macen grinned, "I know you'd prefer a willing, live subject but a cooperative dead one is almost as good."

"Brin, that's experimentation." Danan protested, "That's illegal."

Macen rolled his eyes, "Lees, I'm not asking you to dissect him. I'm asking you to assist Kort on an autopsy. Determine the cause of death."

"Brin," Danan planted her fists on her hips, "I _saw_ what killed him. I'm an eyewitness."

"Yes." Macen eagerly agreed, "But _why_ did it kill him?"

He sobered and gazed intently into her eyes, "We know nothing about Omicron physiology other than its extremely flexible at a genetic level. This is our chance to learn what makes them work."

Danan sighed, "Oh, all right. I'm drawing a line though. We study his anatomy. We do not experiment with his corpse."

"That's all I'm asking." Macen assured her

"Okay." Danan gathered her thoughts, "I guess I'll start with his blood since there seems to be an abundance of it lying around."

Macen kissed her on the cheek, "You're a beautiful person."

Danan laughed, "Get out of here before your wife gets jealous and rewires my brain for me."

"Good point." Macen smirked and descended the ramp leading to the floor.

Danan set her rifle down and pulled out her tricorder, "All right. Let's see what this is made of."

* * *

"Orbit is stable, Captain." Pedrossi announced.

"Mr. Delaney, gather up your remaining Security forces and transport to the surface. Evaluate the situation and secure the safety of the civilians down there. Those people are our prisoners, not our targets."

Delaney summoned his relief and made for the lift. McKinley called out to him, "And Commander?"

"Yes sir?"

"Be careful."

Delaney grinned, "Yessir. You can bet on it."

As the lift doors closed, McKinley asked for a tactical view of the surface. The sensor feed coming in from the fighters presented an excellent picture. The stranded _Obsidian_ could be seen bisecting the outer defensive wall. The burning wreckage of the _Eclipse_ could be viewed as the _Equinox _erratically dodged and weaved.

The courtyards were empty. The fighters had reported the Romans pushing the Solarian employees back into the complex. Nothing moved. Stunned bodies from the fighters' attack littered the ground.

"Looks like a war down there." McKinley observed.

"In many ways it is." Johnson observed.

"How do you mean?" McKinley was intrigued.

"Macen is fighting for the survival of his company, his crew, and his employees. People fighting for their very existence are capable of incredible acts of valour and desperation."

"Like ramming your starship into a wall?" McKinley grinned.

"You see my point." Johnson pointed at the screen, "Don't forget that shuttle wedged into the building."

"I stand corrected." McKinley remarked dryly.

"See that you are." Johnson said imperiously as he straightened his uniform jacket.

* * *

Riker came to with a nosebleed and a raging headache. He rose to his feet and looked around. Overhead the _Equinox _was diving and climbing, weaving side to side. A photon missile leapt out of the building towards the shuttle. It narrowly missed.

At first, Riker wondered why Ceryx was staying in place to subject himself to the harassment. Then he looked further away. The shuttle was providing a distraction. The only other available target was the _Obsidian_.

_Good job, Ceryx._ Riker made up his mind to give the Tyrokian a commendation and a raise when this was all over. _This has got to stop._ Riker thought and looked around. Nothing and no one was moving.

_Looks like it's up to me._ Riker decided and he ran towards the building's doors. He opened one of the glass doors cautiously. No one could be seen. As he entered the complex, screams and phaser fire could be heard in the distance.

Warily, Riker moved forward. What appeared to be a lift presented itself just up ahead. Riker pushed the call button and tensely waited as the noise in the background continued to unnerve him.

The doors _whooshed _open and Riker stood there aiming his phaser at empty air. He stepped into the car and depressed a button. Counting levels from the outside, he'd guessed that the missileers were on the Seventh floor. Riker pressed the appropriate button and the doors slid shut.

_What are you doing Tom?_ Riker wondered. It had been years since he'd been on an Away mission. Even longer since he'd seen combat. That had usually been in simulations.

_You're doing what needs to be done. _he counselled himself, _That's what captains do._

The truth of the matter though was that although Macen had given the title of 'Captain' to Riker, Macen truly was, at the ship's heart and soul, her true master. Riker had planned on revisiting this issue with Macen but he hadn't realised until this moment that he was going to capitulate. Macen doubted himself when it came to starship command but it was his destiny and Riker was going to make him see that. His only nagging problem was Forger and Grace's promotions. He had to find a way of saving them, and his own position, as well.

The sounds of the lift moving ceased and Riker held his phaser before him as the doors opened. Riker slowly, ever so slowly, edged his way out of the lift. As he cleared the door and could look to the left, he realised he was staring down the barrel of a Starfleet surplus Type II phaser. A very disgruntled Solarian Security officer held it.

"Looking for me, Sweetie?" she blew him a kiss.


	31. Chapter 31

214

Riker smiled and turned towards his captor, offering her his phaser butt first, "Hi there."

She plucked the phaser out of his hand with her left, "You seem awfully nonchalant about being captured."

Riker shrugged, "It's better to be captured by an attractive woman than a thug of a man." In truth, Riker found her rather plain looking.

She snorted, "Nice try. Now it's time to play the hostage card."

Riker shook his head, "It won't work. I'm expendable."

"Let's find that out the hard way." she motioned for him to move forward with her phaser.

Riker trudged along. He found this entire incident to be rather embarrassing. He'd never hear the end of it when the rest of the team found out about. He needed to find a way out. _I'm supposed to be a tactician, dammit, now's when I prove it. _he thought bitterly.

The female guard frog marched him to the area where two men were shooting at the _Equinox_. One had the launcher on his shoulder while the other hung back and reloaded it. Several cases containing missiles were scattered about.

"I have a present." she announced.

The loader looked up as he hefted another missile, "Good. We can use him to bargain with."

"Stand there." the woman gestured towards a place near the wall.

Riker obeyed. He stood there bobbing up and down by flexing his feet. The woman looked at him scornfully.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm bored." Riker replied with a shrug.

"Whatever. Just stay put."

The loader fumbled and the missileer growled, "Hurry up you idiot!"

The woman turned to appraise the situation and Riker vaulted forward. He shoulder checked the guard and kept going. He slammed into the back of the missileer, hurling him out of the Seventh story window. Feeling proud he turned to find a livid guard aiming both phasers, his and hers, at him. The loader stood beside her, mouth open as he gaped at Riker.

"You bastard! You've killed him." she snarled.

"Seems rather fair since he tried to kill me." Riker said.

"You're the shuttle pilot!" the loader was pointing at Riker.

Riker grinned, "At your service."

"Don't look so happy." the guard said angrily, "You're about to die."

Riker's comm badge chirped and he dropped to the deck. The _Equinox _hovered outside the window. Her twin phasers opened fire. Ceryx swept the phaser beams back and forth. Both Solarian agents were stunned.

The barrage stopped and Riker stood. He slapped his comm badge, "Riker to Ceryx."

"Ceryx here."

"Thanks."

"Any time, Captain. Ceryx out." the shuttle moved and resumed its stationary post ahead of the _Obsidian_.

_Typical Tyrokian, _Riker thought, _completely inscrutable._ Riker strolled over to the stunned Solarians and stripped them of their weapons. Holstering his own phaser, he thumbed the two Type II's down to 'Stun'. Setting out for the lift, he decided to return to the ground floor and find out what the panic was about.

* * *

Delaney and his Security teams rematerialised outside the Solarian building. The Security unit formed a phalanx. Delaney led them into the building. Inside they found no sign of activity.

Fallen bodies littered the entrance. Delaney nodded towards his field medic, "Struthers, check out the wounded."

The medic approached the nearest body and examined it with a medical tricorder, "These people are stunned, Commander."

"But the fighters reported a massacre underway." a surprised Delaney remarked.

Struthers shrugged, "I don't know what to tell but these people are alive and unharmed."

Delaney's face screwed up, "Let's find these 'Romans' and have a little chat with them. Squad, move out. Stay on me."

* * *

"Hah!" T'Kir crowed, "Got it!" She lurched forward in her seat and began scrolling through the opened database, "Holy _shuk_, there's a lot here."

Grace leaned over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed, "I see what you mean. These guys have enough documents to record the movements of an army."

"It's gonna take forever to sort through them. The search engine on this system is crappy beyond measure." T'Kir complained.

"What's that mean?" Grace asked.

"We may have to 'physically' search these files. That means opening reading every one of them." T'Kir explained, her frustration was plain to see.

"Problems?" Macen asked as he walked up.

"This _frinxing _database sucks." T'Kir commented.

"What's the specific problem?" Macen enquired.

"The search engine is archaic." T'Kir vented, "It won't search the breadth of the files at once. You have to open each individual file and run a search."

Macen sighed, "Sounds tedious and time consuming."

"You have nooo idea." T'Kir grumbled.

"Luckily, we can get help." Macen replied, "The _Obsidian's _OPS Department can help out."

"Maybe we could get help from the _Intrepid _too." Grace suggested, "This _is _an official Starfleet investigation."

"Good thinking, Hannah." Macen said, "I'll contact Captain McKinley and put in a request."

"I'll take whatever I can get." T'Kir muttered.

"Hang on, Hon." Macen chuckled and began massaging her shoulders, "We will persevere."

"Mmmm. Don't stop." T'Kir went limp and let Macen do what he wanted as his fingers kneaded her neck.

"Where do I get one of those?" Grace whined.

Macen grinned, "Not my department, Hannah. Fend for yourself."

"Figures." Grace mumbled.

"Ask Joachim." T'Kir suggested, "He's safe."

"I don't want 'safe'." Grace retorted, "I could use a little romantic danger right about now."

"What about Ian Delaney?" T'Kir prodded, "He's in the same solar system."

"I don't know." Grace frowned, "Ian's fast becoming a good friend but I don't know if he has any romantic notions."

"D'you?" T'Kir wondered.

"I dunno." Grace shrugged, "I really like him and he is attractive but I don't know if that's a path I want to go down with him."

"You could always use him for sex and toss him aside." T'Kir wickedly grinned, "It was my motto."

"First off, I'm not you." Grace ticked off her fingers, "Second, the entire point is that I don't want to alienate this guy. And third, that's just a bad way to live."

"Since when have you been so rigid?" T'Kir was suddenly alarmed, "You used to be pretty free wheeling."

"And I ended up alone." Grace sighed, "I want to build a relationship this go around. I want to hold on to something. Is that so wrong?"

"Nope." Macen said as he ground into T'Kir's knots, "I think you're being wise Hannah. Hold the faith. It'll happen for you."

Thanks." Grace replied, "I could use all the encouragement I can get."

"Having travelled down this same path, I can honestly say it's worth it." T'Kir admitted, "Have patience, Sweetie. It'll come when you least expect it."

Grace heaved a sigh, "Okay. One question: how will I know when love has arrived?"

T'Kir released a bubbling laugh, "Trust me, you'll know. It'll overwhelm you. But don't jump at simple lust. It also has to make sense. Think about it before you commit."

"Oookay." Grace bit her lower lip, "So I'm supposed to feel passionate but also logical?"

"Bizarre mix isn't it?" T'Kir smiled, "But it works. Trust me."

"And it can take years to realise." Macen added, "Look at T'Kir and I."

"Yeah," T'Kir jerked her thumb towards Macen, "I had to wait years for slowpoke there to catch up."

"What you felt at first wasn't lust." Macen leaned over her, "It was infatuation. I was the only 'safe' person you knew so you wanted me."

"Okay." T'Kir recanted, "So it was only six months or so."

"That's better." Macen teased and resumed his work on her neck and shoulders.

"Brin." Danan called out as she leaned over the rotunda's railing, "I have something to show you."

"Sorry ladies, but duty calls." Macen kissed the top of T'Kir's head and then joined Danan.

"He's a good man." Grace opined.

"Yah." T'Kir agreed, "I got lucky."

" So will I." Grace determined.

"That's the spirit." T'Kir encouraged her, "Hold out for what you want."

"I think I will."

"But be ready to compromise on certain issues." T'Kir advised.

Grace looked nonplussed.

* * *

"Wait up!" a voice called out and Delaney's entire squad turned around to see its source. Delaney stepped out from the head of the phalanx and took a look. He recognised Riker as the older man jogged to catch up with his men.

"Commander," Delaney observed, "You look like you've been through hell."

"Nearly." Riker extended his hand, "You must be Commander Delaney. I've heard good things about you."

"As I have about you." Delaney replied.

"Oh really?" Riker was surprised.

"Admiral Johnson gave us a full background briefing on your SID team." Delaney explained, "Of course, I've also met most of your team."

"Yes, of course." Riker nodded his understanding, "I had to miss out on that mission."

"It looks like you've made up for it this time around." Delaney pointedly stared at Riker's singed uniform.

Riker chuckled, "It's a story, Commander. Maybe I'll tell you about it when this all over."

"I'll admit I'm certainly curious." Delaney said, "But right now I have more pressing concerns."

"Such as?" Riker asked.

"I'm tracking down a group of Romans." Delaney explained, "We're to safeguard the lives of the Solarian employees."

"Romans huh?" Riker rubbed his bearded chin, "I was wondering what this small war was about."

"Any fatalities that you've discovered?" Delaney enquired.

Riker shook his head, "No. Every body I've checked as been alive."

"That's a relief." Delaney relaxed a bit, "They seem to be holding back for now."

"But you're worried about the near future." Riker surmised.

"Exactly." Delaney smiled, "Care to come along?"

It was Riker's turn to smile broadly, "I'd love to, Commander."

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Striker asked Caplan.

Caplan grinned, "I have an initial report. This whole ship is modular. It was built in segments then assembled. The outer hull was put on last to weld it all together."

"Novel approach." Striker admitted, "Any clues as to how they synchronised the dual warp cores."

Caplan shook his head, "The whole warp system involved here is one advanced piece of engineering. It involves components that are beyond Federation science. It'll require in depth study to figure them out."

"Did they invent the tech?" Striker wondered.

Caplan snorted, "I seriously doubt it. I can follow some of it but I'll admit some that some of it has me stumped. I can design and build you an entire starship and this is beyond me. That tells you something."

Striker whistled, "I'll say. How did they come up with it then?"

"I'd say it was a technology transfer." Caplan surmised, "I'd say those answers are on the surface of that planet."

"I'm sure you're right." Striker agreed, "And Captain McKinley and Admiral Johnson are taking care of that right now."

"I'd love to crack this mystery myself." Caplan said hungrily.

"So would I, Commander, but we have our orders and they are to stay put for now." Striker sympathised.

"I'll just keep beating my head against the bulkhead until something shakes loose." Caplan joked.

"You do that." Striker chuckled, "Now I have to get back to babysitting modern day Roman soldiers."

Caplan broke into a wry grin, "Good luck with that."

"Thanks." Striker replied, "I think I'll need it."

* * *

"What's up, Lees?" Macen asked as he approached Danan's position.

"Take a look at these readings." she handed him her tricorder.

"Let's see." Macen studied the scan results and then shrugged, "The blood's iron based and the tissues are carbon based. So what? So are you and I."

Danan angrily snatched the scanner out of his hands, "Did you look at the percentages? This guy is practically mineral."

"Really?" Macen asked in surprise.

"He isn't a silicon based lifeform but he's far more mineralised than any lifeform I'm aware of. That's why he was practically chitinous. He's skin is essentially a crust."

"Anything else of note?" Macen was intrigued.

"I can't be sure yet, not until I have access to a lab anyway…" Danan trailed off.

"What?" Macen urged, "C'mon, don't leave me in suspense."

"I think he has ten base pairs in his DNA." Danan revealed.

"But most humanoids only average four base pairs." Macen remarked.

Danan nodded, "Which is why most humanoids look so much alike. It's convergent evolution."

"Yet Ezexial has ten." Macen said in awe, "No wonder their genetic structure is so malleable. They're designed to rapidly adapt."

"Exactly!" Danan exclaimed

"I wonder what else we'll learn?" Macen wondered.

"I don't know but I know one thing is certain." Danan remarked, "We need to return to Omicron."

"Put that in your official findings." Macen encouraged her, "You may get the Nobel for this."

"No, I won't. They don't give out academic awards to secret agents." Danan opined.

"Don't sell yourself short Lees. Ever." Macen said firmly, "Got it?"

"Yes sir." Danan saluted.

"If you weren't the best scientist I knew I wouldn't have let you rejoin the team." Macen revealed, "Think about that." With that said he exited the rotunda and walked away.

Danan smiled, "Well, will wonders never cease?" With a shrug she returned to her examinations.

* * *

"I hear voices ahead." Delaney said and held up a fist. The phalanx halted in mid-stride. Delaney pulled a tricorder from his belt. He and his entire detail were wearing the standard issue Special Operations ablative armour used by Starfleet. Everyone was also issued equipment belts designed to hold their phasers, tricorders, bandages and rations. Every person in the unit also brandished a pulse rifle.

Delaney held the tricorder aloft and studied its readings, "I'm detecting life signs. Human. Dozens of them."

"Could be our missing Romans." Riker whispered.

Delaney folded the tricorder shut and returned it to his belt, "Could be. There's only one way to be sure." He waved the phalanx forward and they resumed their advance.

They pushed forward a hundred metres and reached a turn. Delaney motioned for a halt and then moved over to the corner and peered around it. He crept back to his unit and whispered his report.

"They're there. They are milling about. I don't see any civilians. They have guards posted around a large, circular door. It appears to be a vault or bunker."

The word was passed to every member of the unit and Delaney waited until all the assorted whispers had silenced, "We're going to advance and confront them. Do not fire unless fired upon. Understood?"

Another wave of whispers erupted. A wave of nods followed. Delaney returned to his position and waved the Security unit forward.

The phalanx rotated, placing Delaney at the forefront to face the Romans as they cleared the corner. Delaney motioned and the Starfleet personnel began moving sideways. As the first Security officer passed into the Roman's view, an alarm was raised. As the phalanx settled into position, the Romans were alert and poised to strike.

"Wait!" Riker shouted and raised his hands, "I'm Commander Thomas Riker. I'm the 1st Officer of the _Obsidian_. We're here to help."

Silence loomed as the Romans stood by, impassive to Riker's words. The Security unit stood tense and alert, ready for instant action. The Roman ranks were disturbed as a figure pushed his way through the crowded area. He emerged from the gathered soldiers and studied the Security detail.

"You are Starfleet?" the Centurion asked.

"Yes." Delaney confirmed, "I'm Lt. Commander Ian Delaney, the Chief Tactical Officer of the _USS Intrepid_."

"Ah," the Centurion's lit with recognition, "The other starship. Why are you here? The situation is contained."

"We were dispatched to insure the safety of the civilians here." Delaney, "We've seen the aftermath of your engagement. We appreciate your restraint. By allowing the enemy to live, you have made a friend in the Federation."

The Centurion nodded, "It is as Admiral Scipio wished then. At ease Legionnaires. We are among allies."

The Romans shouldered their rifles. The Centurion strode forward to meet Riker and Delaney. He stood before Riker and extended his hand. Riker met it and the Centurion grasped his forearm. Riker did likewise.

The Centurion repeated the exercise with Delaney. Afterwards he smiled, "I am Agwynn, Centurion in the Star Legions of Magna Roma."

"Agwynn?" Riker repeated, "That doesn't sound very Roman."

Agwynn chuckled, "I am originally from the province of Britannia. Now I call the Legion my home."

"I see." Riker replied.

"Centurion," Delaney spoke, "I have to ask, where are the rest of the civilians?"

Agwynn chuckled darkly and pointed at the massive door, "They are within the bunker beyond this door. They are trapped and helpless."

"They're unharmed?" Delaney enquired.

"My orders were specific, Commander." Agwynn explained, "I said 'no casualties' and any Legionnaire that exceeded these orders would be flogged."

Delaney contained his surprise at hearing this. He remembered from history classes that Roman discipline was brutal but that was a far cry from hearing someone casually referring to such violence. He had to practically chant the Prime Directive to himself.

"You are welcome to join us." Agwynn offered, "But if you will excuse me, I have some matters to address."

"Of course." Riker allowed. As the Centurion departed, Riker turned to Delaney, "Very smooth, Commander."

Delaney shrugged, "You learn a thing or two being around Admiral Johnson."

"I need to meet him." Riker said, "It isn't often that Macen is deferential towards authority but he seems to respect the Admiral."

Delaney smiled, "They have a history."

Riker grimaced, "Another mission I was left out of."

"So was I." Delaney replied, "Don't feel bad. We can't be everywhere. Duty sometimes demands that we sit on the sidelines."

"Wisdom beyond your years." Riker sighed, "Care to join me for a drink when this over?"

Delaney grinned, "I'd love to."

"I'll ask a friend of mine to join us then." Riker said.

"So will I." Delaney decided.

"Until then." Riker grinned.

That decided, Delaney turned to his Security officers, "All right people. They've declared peace for now. Take a moment to relax but don't get too comfortable. We have a lot of prisoners to gather up and detain in the near future."

Delaney took an ensign aside, "Adams, assemble a squad and return to the ship. Collect the portable forcefield generators. Have a squad of engineers beam down with you and erect a detention facility in the outer courtyard."

"Aye sir." the ensign replied.

"Well," Delaney massaged his temples, "Let's enjoy the quiet while it lasts."

* * *

"I understand Admiral." Johnson said to Scipio, "We had to dispatch a team of our own to the surface. I'm certain they won't engage your forces." _Unless they absolutely have to_ remained unspoken.

Scipio calmed but was hardly mollified, "I am disappointed Admiral Johnson. I thought we had trust. I am saddened to see that this is not true." The screen went back to its view of the planetary horizon.

"Well, I'd say he's not going to forget this." McKinley opined.

Johnson sighed as he retook his seat, "I'm afraid you're right about that, Jim. This could colour our burgeoning relationship with the Nova Romans."

"Is that a bad thing?" McKinley wondered, "Isn't best to let them know upfront that we'll be watching them?"

Johnson pensively stroked his beard, "Perhaps. It's important to remember though, the only thing greater than a Roman's sense of duty is his or her pride."

"Great." McKinley grumbled, "Give me plain old Romulans any day."

Johnson laughed, "It's not _that_ bad."

"At least you expect that kind of attitude from a Romulan." McKinley observed, "I'm just not used to this kind of brazen arrogance from a fellow human. They are human right?"

"Oh, they're human enough." Johnson replied, "As far as arrogance goes, have you ever spent time in the company of Edward Jellico?"

"The Starfleet Chief of Operations?" McKinley asked, "No, I don't think so."

Johnson wore a wry grin, "You'd know it if you had. Let's just say he gives a Romulan a run for their latinum. It just goes to show you that human beings can be as puffed up and misguided as any alien we've ever encountered. We only recognise these attitudes and emotions because we've had them as well."

McKinley digested this, "You're right of course. I'm just confused because they're human. They really are an alien culture though and I need to set my sights accordingly."

"I'm having trouble as well so don't feel too bad, Jim." Johnson assured him.

"Now if we'd only hear from Macen." McKinley said.

Johnson's face twisted up in a wry expression, "He'll contact us when he's ready to but not before."

"He's a maverick isn't he?" McKinley asked.

"Some would say so." Johnson admitted, "Look at it this way, his hero is James T. Kirk."

"Oh God." McKinley moaned, "We're in trouble now."


	32. Chapter 32

231

Macen stood in front of Zeist. Dracas stood to the side. Macen's hands were on his hips.

"How're doing Hiram?" Macen asked

"I wish you'd stop calling me by my given name." Zeist wearily protested, "You haven't the right."

Macen smirked, "You don't have any rights, Hiram. I'll keep you alive to face the courts but don't expect courtesy from me. You abandoned that right the moment you pitted the Iotians against my people."

Zeist looked askance, "I'm sorry about that."

"Repentance is nice." Macen said scornfully, "But it doesn't bring the dead back to life."

"I…" Zeist faltered.

"Spare me." Macen said dismissively as he turned and left.

"That man is going to kill me." Zeist predicted.

"I would." Dracas commented.

* * *

In the outer hallway, Radil looked over towards Daggit, "No one's coming. I think it's done."

"Stay alert." Daggit insisted, "There are always stragglers that escape the net."

Radil shrugged her shoulders and resumed her vigilant search for incoming trouble.

* * *

"Any luck?" Macen asked as he stepped up behind T'Kir.

"Call me next century." T'Kir retorted.

"She's not very happy." Grace observed.

"Then its time to rustle up some help." Macen tapped his comm badge, "Macen to Forger."

"Forger here."

"What's the situation?" Macen inquired.

"Everything's stable. The Romans have landed troops. The _Intrepid_ transported a detachment to the surface and the Solarians have all been stunned or herded back into the complex."

"Any losses to our side?" Macen wondered.

"We lost the _Eclipse_ to a portable photon missile launcher. It appeared as if Commander Riker escaped injury though. We haven't seen him since he entered the building."

"All right." Macen absorbed the information and began making plans, "Recall the _Equinox_. Round up the OPS department and have anyone not sleeping board the shuttle and get over here. Have them join us on the Fourteenth floor."

"After you've completed that, page Riker and get a situation report from him." Macen continued, "Lastly, contact the _Intrepid_ and arrange a comm link between my position and their bridge."

"Aye, Captain. Forger out."

Macen shook his head. Forger had referred to Riker as "Commander" and addressed him as "Captain". It seemed his efforts to the contrary were ultimately doomed to failure. He'd have to talk to Riker and see if they could reach an accommodation.

Until then, he'd concentrate on the matters on hand. He hoped Johnson and McKinley had time to talk to him. He planned on recruiting their OPS department and their Intelligence unit.

* * *

Riker's comm badge started chirping and he quickly slapped it, "Riker here."

"This is Forger. The Captain wants an update on your situation."

Riker's lips twisted into a wry smile as her words registered, "I'm fine. I'm currently with Commander Delaney and the _Intrepid's _Security detail. The Romans are here with us as well. We have the bulk of the Solarian staff confined to a bunker in the subbasement."

"Roger that. I'll appraise the Captain. Stand by. Forger out."

Riker smiled. It was easy to tell that Forger's specialty was Tactical. She was very driven and forceful when she wanted to be. She also had a remarkably level head.

Riker turned back to Delaney and Agwynn, "Sorry gentlemen, you were saying?"

* * *

"Captain," the relief Tactical Officer said, "the _Obsidian_ is hailing us."

_Finally_, McKinley thought but aloud he merely replied with, "Put it on the main screen, Lieutenant."

The screen shifted to a picture of a very poised young woman, "Captain McKinley?"

"Yes, I'm McKinley. And you are?"

"Lt. Commander Shannon Forger." she replied, "I'm the acting commander of the _Obsidian_ while Captain Macen and Commander Riker are dirtside."

"I believe you are as well." McKinley observed dryly.

"Yes sir." Forger was unflappable, "However it doesn't appear that way when you're still inside a starship."

"I can imagine." McKinley replied, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Captain Macen wished to establish a comm link." Forger revealed, "We have his comm badge's ID ready and we can squirt that data to you any time you are ready to receive it."

"Please send that information now." McKinley requested.

"Aye, sir." Forger turned and gave the order.

McKinley turned expectantly to his Tactical station and waited. The Tactical Officer turned and confirmed the ID's arrival. McKinley returned his focus to the viewer.

"We have it Commander. We'll establish communications shortly. McKinley out." he informed her and the screen reverted to its tactical display.

* * *

Macen's comm badge chirped and he swatted it, "Macen here."

"This is McKinley. What is your status?"

"We have captured the central operations command centre and are now beginning an intensive search of the mainframe's database." Macen reported.

"Were there any casualties?"

"None on our side. We have two dead and a live prisoner." Macen answered.

"Have you ID'd the dead?"

"One is a Chalnoth named Grix Wilsce. The other is an Omicron named Ezexial." Macen described.

Johnson's voice cut in, "Excuse me, did you say Omicron?"

"Affirmative." Macen confirmed, "More to the point _the _Omicron that established alliances with insurgent groups across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants."

"My God." Johnson breathed, "We could have used him alive. He could have provided us with the names and locations of dozens of terrorist groups."

"There wasn't much choice at the time." Macen explained, "It was a kill or be killed scenario."

Silence lingered then Johnson replied in resignation, "What's done is done."

"Commander Macen, do you require any assistance?" McKinley asked.

"That's what I wanted to ask." Macen admitted, "Can you spare some members of your OPS department and your Intelligence section?"

"You want them to assist you in your search of the database." McKinley deduced.

"Exactly. We're on the complex's Fourteenth floor." Macen replied.

"We'll send them immediately."

"Thank you. Macen out."

* * *

It took thirty minutes for the various teams to arrive. When they did, Daggit and Radil ushered them into the ops centre. T'Kir distributed the various stations to the personnel and then stood back and directed them to the appropriate screens. Then she made the circuit again assigning various files to the individual investigators. Her last task was briefing the _Intrepid's _Intel Chief and handing over supervisory responsibilities to her.

T'Kir stood back with Macen and Grace, "I need a break. It's been a long day and I'm hungry."

"I suggest we take a stroll and see what's available." Macen suggested. Danan stayed behind as they gathered up the rest of the team, Zeist, and proceeded to the lifts. Piling up in a single lift, they travelled to the ground floor. Examining a building layout, they proceeded to the commissary.

"What a mess." Grace commented as they gazed upon the wreckage that was left of the commissary.

"Panicked people generally don't take time to observe the usual niceties, Hannah." Macen dryly rebutted.

"I guess." Grace conceded and blew out a puff of air, "How are we going to scrape together a meal out of this?"

"I've been in worse." Daggit divulged, "We can forage."

"Hell, yes." Radil concurred.

"Fan out people." Macen instructed, "And take no prisoners."

* * *

"Commander," one of Delaney's scouts reported, "the stunned civilians are starting to stir."

Delaney turned to Agwynn, "Can we borrow some of your Legionnaires?"

Agwynn clapped him on the shoulder, "Certainly."

Agwynn barked orders at his troops and Delaney began to instruct his personnel, "These people are going to groggy and scared. Handle them gently. We have the detention area set up so take them out there and Adams' squad will contain them. All right, move out!"

"Here we go again." Riker observed dryly.

"The fun never stops around here." Delaney laughed.

* * *

The SID team had discovered that most of the lunch servings were still sitting their respective pots and pans. They'd cooled but they were edible. Most of the dishes were quite savoury, at least an equal to the _Obsidian's _resident chef's handiwork.

Zeist's arms were placed in front of him and his wrists rebound. Daggit prepared a sandwich for the prisoner and they allowed him to eat. He sat in miserable silence while the Starfleet agents enjoyed themselves. Daggit wolfed down his meal and separated himself so that he could place a call to Parva with relative privacy.

"So is there going to fallout from your killing Ezexial?" Radil asked.

"Judging by Admiral Johnson's reaction, I'd say there will probably be an official reprimand coming." Macen shrugged, "Amanda is certainly going freak out."

"When doesn't she?" T'Kir chortled between bites.

"She usually has good reason to, at least by Starfleet standards. We don't exactly follow regulations."

"Most of that is your fault." Grace pointed out. When she received a bevy of stares from her teammates, she defiantly jutted out her chin, "Well, it is."

Macen chuckled, "It's all right, Hannah. I'm happy to accept the blame."

"Well Drake must be happy with us." Radil observed, "We're still employed."

"We're successful." Macen concurred, "She can't argue with that. While we violate Starfleet regs, we take care to observe the general thrust of Federation law."

"But not the finer points." T'Kir countered.

Macen grinned, "Who has time?"

"We certainly don't." T'Kir declared.

"And Prophets help those that do." Radil laughed.

"Omigod!" Grace gasped, "We forgot Kort!"

"Oh hell." Macen muttered, "He's probably torn apart the interior of the shuttle by now."

Radil rose, "I'll get him. He'll behave around me."

"Crafty witch." T'Kir laughed.

Radil smiled as she shrugged, "What can I say. I do what works."

"The Outbound Ventures motto." Macen saluted her.

Radil laughed, "I'd better get going."

As Radil strode away, T'Kir smiled, "She certainly has changed since we first met her."

"She's discovered love." Macen commented.

"She dumped Kort. I wouldn't call that love." T'Kir spoke as if addressing a backwards child.

"Not him. Us." Macen explained, "She's been embraced by the group. You were right back when you said we've become a family. Radil's needed that all her life."

"As I recall, you doubted my infinite wisdom at the time." T'Kir accused.

"I stand corrected, milady." Macen said regretfully.

"All right, you're forgiven." she adopted a wicked smile, "But I shall exact a penance from you later."

"Such as?" Macen asked.

"I'll just leave that to my imagination." T'Kir declared.

"Fates, be merciful. I'm only humanoid." Macen pleaded.

"No promises." her smile grew more evil and her eyes twinkled with merriment.

"I wonder how Rab's doing." Grace spoke up, "It's got to be hard coping with what's happened to Parva."

"I think the hardest part for him is her sudden vulnerability." Macen replied, "He's afraid of hurting her."

"So far he's done just the opposite." T'Kir observed, "She lights up when he's around."

"And that's what reassures him and gives him hope." Macen revealed.

* * *

"So you're all right?" Daggit asked Parva via comm link.

"I'm fine silly. I've been busy helping Tessa treat patients."

"I'm relieved." Daggit admitted.

"So am I. I was afraid that you would get hurt."

"Kort was with us. I would have been treated by the best." Daggit assured her.

"You know, that this is how it's going to be from now on. You'll go off to face danger and I'll be left behind."

"It doesn't have to be that way." Daggit insisted.

"Yes, it does. Kort's discussed my condition with me. I don't think I want to stay aboard the _Obsidian_. It would kill me to face your imminent demise every time you go on a mission."

"So you'll stay on Barrinor?" Daggit fervently hoped.

"That's the plan. Maybe I can get a job. There must be a market for crippled engineers that can't remember their craft."

"Move in with me." Daggit suddenly insisted, "My place is big enough for the two of us, unlike your flat."

"You mean it? I'd love to."

"We'll pack your things and move you as soon as we get back to Barrinor." Daggit decided.

"I can't wait!"

Daggit was pleased to hear her so happy, "This will be perfect."

"I'm glad you think so. I'd hate to be a disappointment."

"Never." Daggit declared, "I love you and I want you by my side no matter what you can or cannot remember."

"I love you too."

"I have to go now but I'll see you soon." Daggit told her.

"Hurry."

"Daggit out."

* * *

With a contented sigh, Daggit returned to the table and his teammates.

"Everything all right?" Macen asked.

"She's moving in with me." Daggit announced.

"Congratulations." Grace offered.

"About time." T'Kir commented.

"I hardly know you but I can see this pleases you." Dracas said, "I wish you well."

"Every happiness, Rab, for the both of you." came from Macen.

"So where's Jenrya?" Daggit wondered.

"She's retrieving Kort." Macen grinned, "We left him alone on the shuttle."

"Oh gods." Daggit muttered.

"She'll handle him." Macen promised.

* * *

Delaney stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow, "Thank God we're almost done. These SpecOps armoured suits are nice but they're hotter than hell."

"I was wondering." Riker said.

"Well, they are." Delaney complained. He tapped his comm badge, "Delaney to _Intrepid_."

There was a moment's hesitation then a voice came back over the circuit, "This is McKinley, report."

"The civilians are all alive and secured." Delaney reported.

"And the Romans?"

"Cooperating nicely." Delaney replied.

"That's a relief. Do you require any further assistance?"

"You should probably send down a medical team to check out the prisoners, just to be on the safe side." Delaney said, "Maybe a counsellor or two. Some of these people have been badly scared. There may be some trauma."

"Understood. Stand by to receive the additional personnel."

"Roger." Delaney acknowledged.

"McKinley out."

Delaney looked over towards Riker, "Looks like things are going to stay interesting."

"How do you mean?" Riker wondered.

"If Dr. Sikorsky discovers one instance of abuse she'll dress Agwynn down without a moment's hesitation."

"Really?" Riker was impressed, "I'd like to see that."

"So would I." Delaney admitted.

* * *

"Sorry for the mix-up." Macen offered.

Kort grunted and tore into his meal. He ate in silence for several minutes then finally looked up.

"You could have at least told me I could leave that cursed shuttle." he complained.

"I can only say I'm sorry so many times." Macen replied, "You either accept my apology or you don't."

Kort pondered that for a while then finally grunted again, "I suppose it's all right."

"Good." Macen replied, "Now we have to decide on our next move."

"You mean you have to decide our next move." Daggit replied.

"Actually, I'm open to suggestions." Macen admitted.

"I think we need to get everyone off the _Obsidian_." Grace piped up.

"Good point." Macen said and tapped his comm badge, "Macen to Forger."

"Forger here."

"Shannon, I want you organise a general evacuation of the ship." Macen ordered.

"Where are we going to go?"

"Have everyone break out the emergency gear and set up a tent city outside the wall. Have Chef arrange a basic kitchen and make sure everyone gets fed." Macen described his basic plan.

"I can have the Engineering staff set up sonic showers in every tent."

"Good idea. Also have two cots set up in every tent." Macen decided.

"That'll stretch our available resources."

"Yes, but people just survived a near death experience. They're going to want to pair off tonight." Macen shared.

"Gotcha. Anything else?"

"Not at this time." Macen replied, "I'll keep you posted if the scenario changes."

"Do it before we set up the tents. I'd hate to have to move all that crap after it's erected."

Macen smiled, "Understood. Macen out."

Macen looked expectantly at the others, "Anything else?"

"I'm done thinking." T'Kir declared and dropped her head into her arms on the table.

"I have to admit I'm tired as well." Daggit said.

Macen whistled, "You must be exhausted to admit that."

Daggit shrugged.

"Then I suggest I call Ceryx back to pick us up and we grab a tent." Macen decided, "But first we have to find Tom."

"He's probably outside." Grace opined.

"One way to find out." Macen went for his comm badge again, "Macen to Riker."

"Riker here."

"How are you, Tom?" Macen enquired.

"I'm fine. How did we do?"

"We're still working on it." Macen replied, "Where are you?"

"Right outside the main entrance."

"Stay there. We'll join you." Macen instructed.

"Time to go." Macen rose and touched T'Kir's shoulder.

"`M'comin'." she muttered.

"Eat and run." Kort grumbled, "Why is it always eat and run?"

"Because we're fortunate." Macen grinned.

"Hardly." Kort opined.

"Stow it." Macen chastised him, "Let's move people."

* * *

"Ian!" Grace called out.

Delaney spun around, "Hannah!"

She ran up to him and embraced him, "It's good to see you."

"I missed you too." Delaney confessed, "I've been worried about ever since Commander Riker told me you were part of the incursion."

"Hello Commander Delaney." Macen said as he neared the pair.

Grace disentangled herself from Delaney's arms, "Sorry, Captain. Just swept away by the moment."

"This is one of those signs you've been looking forward to, Hannah." Macen observed.

Grace coloured and Delaney looked back and forth between Macen and Grace, "What am I missing here?"

"Nothing." Grace replied.

"I'm glad to see you as well, Commander." Macen said, "I have a prisoner to place in your custody."

Delaney peered past Macen's shoulder, "I see. Sorry looking fellow isn't he?"

"He's had a bad day." Macen said, "He needs a shower and a new pair of pants."

Dracas pushed Zeist forward and Delaney caught a whiff of Zeist's urine stains, "I see. We'll take care of it. Adams!"

"You yelled?" Adams retorted as he approached.

"Careful Ensign. That irreverence will get you in trouble with the brass." Delaney advised.

"Sorry sir." Adams said a little more contritely.

"Just don't keep doing it." Delaney implored.

"Yes sir." Adams acknowledged.

"Take this prisoner aboard the ship, bathe and dress him, then lock him in the brig." Delaney ordered.

"Aye, sir." Adams heartily said and took hold of Zeist's arm and hauled him off to the side. Moment's later the pair faded as the transporter took a hold of them.

"So what are you up to?" Macen asked.

"Our Medical staff is examining the prisoners and we're processing them at the same time. Once they're processed, we place them under house arrest. There's an underground dormitory." Delaney explained.

"Elements!" T'Kir exclaimed, "That has to be depressing."

Delaney grinned, "It wouldn't be my first choice either."

"Tom," Macen turned to Riker, "if you're done here, we're establishing a refugee centre for the crew. You probably want some rest. Now is your opportunity."

"Sounds good." Riker wearily smiled.

"Tell McKinley and Johnson that we'll be back in action in eight hours but not before."

"Why don't you tell them yourself?" Delaney asked.

Macen wore a mischievous smirk, "It'll sound better coming from you."

Delaney looked nonplussed and Grace told him, "I'll see you later."

"I hope so." Delaney replied.

* * *

The SID team walked towards the beached _Obsidian_. Macen called Ceryx while they walked and the _Equinox _was waiting for them. It took trips for the diminutive shuttle to carry them all over the wall. Once there, they threw themselves into the task of setting up their tents.

Once that was done, the engineers eventually arrived and set up a sonic shower in the tents. They also placed a portable toilet in every tent. Lamps were provided as well. Everyone went aboard the ship and got changes of clothing and undergarments. Riker grabbed a bite to eat.

Macen tried to raise Danan but she ignored her comm badge. He shrugged, kissed T'Kir and laid down on the cots they'd shoved together. He was asleep as soon as he lay down. T'Kir contently watched his breathing for a while. She finally rested herself and fell into a deep slumber.


	33. Chapter 33

244

The next morning, the team gathered together and had breakfast. Circadian rhythms across the ship had been disrupted as the Gamma shift personnel were suddenly expected to sleep during their normal duty shift. A lot of dazed crewmen wandered about.

The SID team gathered around a picnic style table. They carried their breakfasts over on trays. The cooks had wrought miracles out of their Spartan equipment.

"Does anyone know if Lees ever made it back?" Macen asked.

Riker shook his head, "No. I erected a tent for her but she's never returned from the Solarian centre."

Macen frowned, "We're going to have to go get her."

"I could." Riker volunteered.

Macen shook his head, "I need you here. The crew's in shock. They need a familiar and friendly face of authority to turn to."

"All right." Riker's disappointment was palpable to an empath.

"Joachim, I want you to gather the engineering compliment and do a survey of the _Obsidian's _structural damage. I want to know if we can salvage and repair her."

"A noble endeavour." Dracas commented, "It will be done."

"Kort, I want you in the camp as well. The EMH is deactivated and that leaves you as the last physician we have. If an emergency arises, you need to be here to deal with it."

"Agreed." the Klingon boisterously concurred.

"Rab, Jenrya, you coordinate with Starfleet Security." Macen ordered, "Start interviewing the Solarian employees. Determine who's a security risk."

"What happens when we determine there's a threat?" Daggit asked. Parva sat next to him."

"The _Intrepid _crew set up that detention centre. Put anyone you suspect of being a threat in there." Macen suggested.

"Parva," Macen gazed into the Orion's eyes, "I want you to assist Shannon Forger with determining people's needs and finding solutions for them."

Parva beamed, "Yes, Captain."

"Hannah," Macen said and Grace straightened up, "You're on the _Paladin_. Rhiann will use the _Equinox's _tractor beam to pull the _Paladin _out of the building and set her down. Determine her flight potential."

"And if she's broken?" Grace asked.

Macen shrugged, "Try and fix her."

"T'Kir and I will meet up with the _Intrepid _staff conducting the file search." Macen announced, "We'll see if they've come with anything and if so, what."

"Sounds like we'll all be busy." Riker commented.

Macen smiled, "I try my best."

"Please don't." Radil rebutted and everyone laughed.

"As soon as you turn in your plates gather whatever equipment you need. Rhiann will be making a shuttle run in fifteen minutes. Don't be late."

* * *

Those crossing over the wall gathered next to the shuttle and said good morning to Rhiann as she climbed into the shuttle. The Andorian strapped in and brought the engines to life.

"Everyone in?" she asked the assembled passengers.

A chorus of "yes" met her query. She smiled, "Good. We're out of room. Hang on."

The shuttle began its climb. She brought the shuttle up above the level of the wall. Applying power, she began a forward motion. The _Equinox_ crossed over the threshold of the barrier and she descended. Putting her down, Rhiann opened the rear hatch.

"What a waste of a shuttle." she muttered as the others climbed out.

Beside her Grace smiled, "I'll contact you as soon as I'm ready. Give me, oh let's say ten minutes?"

"Sounds good." Rhiann replied, "I'll await your call."

Grave patted her on the shoulder on her way out.

* * *

The lift opened on the Fourteenth floor. Macen, T'Kir and Grace exited the cube-like car. As they reached the door to the central operations centre, Grace said her goodbyes.

"Good luck." T'Kir called out as Grace strode away.

"C'mon, let's see what the children have been up to in our absence." Macen grinned.

T'Kir inputted the security code and the door opened. They walked in and surveyed the scene. Several of the investigators were still at their posts but a handful were gathered around Danan on the rotunda. The Chief Intelligence Officer looked up and waved them on.

"We've been trying to contact you." the IO said, "She just passed out. We've called for medical assistance."

A chiming met them. The IO turned to a fellow officer, "Xerxes, open the door. That must be Dr. Sikorsky."

The other Intelligence staffer ran to the door and opened.

"Why is this door locked when there's a medical emergency?" Sikorsky demanded.

"Sorry ma'am." Xerxes quailed, "We weren't thinking."

"Don't do it again." Sikorsky insisted.

"No ma'am." Xerxes promised.

Sikorsky walked to the rotunda and climbed up onto it. She knelt next to Danan's still form. The Trill's eyes fluttered open. With surprising tenderness given her entrance, Sikorsky examined Danan. Gently talking to her the entire time she conducted her examination, Sikorsky concluded he investigation and stood.

"When's the last time she slept?" she inquired.

"I'd say close to twenty-six hours ago." Macen ventured.

Sikorsky grimaced, "Longer than that I'd say. Her fatigue poisons are peaked out. The poor girl is barely conscious and she's still trying to go."

"We have a bed prepared for her." Macen informed her, "We just need to get her there. We have a shuttle outside and a willing volunteer to carry her to her tent."

Sikorsky nodded in approval, "That sounds good. I'll give her a stimulant to bring her around long enough to get to the shuttle."

"Xerxes," the IO said, "You can assist Ms. Danan to the shuttle then transport up to the _Intrepid _and get some rest yourself."

"I'd recommend that for everyone in this room." Sikorsky suggested, "You all look tired."

"But we're almost there." the IO protested, "We're finally getting results."

"Collins, I'll make it an order if I have to." Sikorsky warned her.

"Yes, ma'am." Collins relented.

Sikorsky turned to Macen and smiled. She held out her hand, "You're the infamous Brin Macen."

Next she shook T'Kir's hand, "Hello T'Kir. A pair of rogues, the both of you."

"I think you have us mistaken with someone else, Andreja." Macen insisted.

Sikorsky laughed, "I don't think so. Admiral Johnson's told us all about you. Delaney can't say enough about your pilot."

Macen and T'Kir exchanged knowing looks and Sikorsky grew intent, "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"We'll see." Macen replied, "It could be a very interesting mission."

"Mmm, I see." Sikorsky tapped her finger against her lip, "Any prescriptions I could fill?"

"Nature'll take its course." T'Kir assured her, "Give it time and everything will take care of itself."

"You're the telepath, so I'll trust you." Sikorsky replied, "I think I'd better revive your friend so that she can go get some rest."

Sikorsky knelt again and prepared a hypo. Pressing it against Danan's neck, she activated the hypo and it released with a hiss. Moment's later, Danan groggily tried to rise. Sikorsky assisted her into a seated position.

"Take it easy." Sikorsky said soothingly, "I'm a doctor. You're going to be all right."

"What happened?" Danan blearily asked.

"You passed out." Sikorsky explained, "You're overtired. That's the diagnosis now here's the cure: go get at least twelve hours of sleep."

"Can't" Danan protested, "Busy."

"Not any more your not." Sikorsky countered, "Doctor's orders."

"Xerxes," Sikorsky summoned the Intel analyst, "Help her to her feet and get her to that shuttle."

"And tell the pilot to have Commander Riker escort her to her tent." Macen added.

Xerxes helped Danan rise and then escorted her out of the room. She wobbled and staggered a bit but she stayed upright. Sikorsky looked at Ezexial's corpse and wrinkled her nose.

"What's this about?"

"We need to perform an autopsy." Macen explained, "We're determining the cause of death."

"Just a guess," Sikorsky smirked, "but I'd say he bled to death."

"Ha ha." Macen said dryly, "The Doctor is also a comedian."

"And here I've heard that you're the master of sarcasm." Sikorsky rebutted, "Can't take competition?"

"You wound me." Macen put a fist to his heart.

"Somehow I suspect it would take more than that." Sikorsky smiled.

"I would hope." Macen replied.

"Collins, why are you still here?" Sikorsky wondered, "I told you to go to bed. I mean it."

"But I need to brief them." Collins insisted.

"Do it quickly and go." Sikorsky was adamant.

"I'll handle this." T'Kir said and took Collins by the arm and led her off of the rotunda.

"Good for her." Sikorsky cheered.

"So why did this little house call warrant the attention of the ship's CMO?" Macen asked.

Sikorsky broke into a sly grin, "Don't miss much do you?"

"That's why they pay me." Macen replied.

"All right." Sikorsky conceded, "I could have sent one of my other doctors. The plain truth is that I was hoping to run into you two, mainly you."

"Why do I warrant?" Macen asked.

"There are a lot of stories about you. Loose talk and whatnot." Sikorsky explained, "I wanted to see which ones were true."

"And so far?" Macen wondered.

"So far the better ones are ringing true." Sikorsky revealed.

"You could be wrong." Macen warned.

"I don't think so." Sikorsky said, "I'm a doctor and a trained psychiatrist. I'm also a pretty good judge of character. You helped us when we needed it and stood up for your ideals when it would count. I've also studied your file, at least the declassified portions of it, and you seem to be an honourable man."

"Thank you." Macen bowed his head.

"You also seem prone to a use of what I deem to be excessive force. Starfleet agrees with me which is why you were court-martialled."

Macen smiled, "I get lectures aplenty from Admiral Drake as it is."

"I was wondering what sort of trauma could catalyse this instinct?"

"Read the classified portions of my file." Macen instructed, "That's where my psych eval is."

"I will if I can." Sikorsky promised, "I'd like to help."

Macen shrugged, "Maybe you could. Who knows? I'm not holding out hope any more."

"It's a sad thing to lose hope." Sikorsky observed.

"If I'd lost all hope I wouldn't be here or doing the work I do." Macen divulged, "Hope is what keeps me alive. The hope of a better tomorrow."

"Yet you don't feel as though you'd be accepted in this future." Sikorsky deducted.

Macen wore a lopsided smile, "Very perceptive Doctor. You're better than most."

"Yet you don't trust me." Sikorsky acknowledged.

"I have no reason to as of yet." Macen explained, "When I know you better we'll discuss trust."

"A conversation I look forward to." Sikorsky smiled, "But if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to tend to."

"Certainly." Macen stepped out of her way, "Is there any chance we can use the _Intrepid's _labs to perform the autopsy?"

Sikorsky turned and nodded, "I'll even assist."

"Can't ask for more than that." Macen said by way of thanks.

Sikorsky waved goodbye and departed. Collins caught with up her and escorted her out of the centre. Macen walked over to where T'Kir was seated.

"So, what do we have?" he asked.

"Quite a bit." T'Kir was impressed, "Someone must have put a phaser to their heads. They've opened a new file and have transferred every incriminating document they to it. It reads like a who's who of bad guys."

"Who do we have?" Macen enquired.

"We have documents bearing the authorisation codes and countercodes of the Solarian CEO and the entire Board of Directors." T'Kir revealed.

"Outstanding!" Macen proclaimed, "We need to get this info to Amanda ASAP."

"Already ahead of you." T'Kir said with a triumphant smile, "I've warmed up the installation's subspace comm array and attached the Iotian data to the file. I uploaded it from my little `puter."

"I love you." Macen said in awe.

"I know." T'Kir said confidently, "You should."

Macen scooped her out of the seat and kissed her.

T'Kir smiled indulgently, "That was nice."

"I wish we had time to do more of it." Macen admitted.

"What's on the agenda now?" T'Kir wondered.

"I have to confer with McKinley and put his people in for commendations." Macen revealed.

"Nuts." T'Kir pouted.

"Has to be done, m'love." Macen insisted.

"Get on with it then." She plopped back down into her seat.

* * *

The _Paladin _shrieked as she came free of the hole she'd created. A final groan announced that she was liberated. Grace had taken the controls off stand by but she couldn't get the engines or thrusters to flare to life. She activated the comm array.

"Set me down, Rhiann. The helm is dead."

The shuttle began to descend and Grace deployed the landing gear. She fervently hoped that it actually deployed as the ship settled on the ground. Grace popped the hatch and commed Rhiann.

"I'm down. Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Rhiann replied, "I have a passenger to pick up now."

"Get to it then." Grace chuckled.

Grace exited the shuttle. She walked several metres away so that she could get an overview of the shuttle's condition. The hull looked intact but she wouldn't try any extra-atmospheric exercises until she'd had that checked out by a team of engineers. The landing gear had deployed and was holding.

She moved to the rear of the shuttle and looked for damage to the primary impulse engines. She couldn't find anything wrong. She went all the way around the ship and could find nothing wrong besides scrapes and a few dents.

Fists on her hips, she muttered, "That means it's internal."

Climbing back into the shuttle, she fired up the Engineering console. She began searching for battle damage. Damage control sensors said that everything was fine.

"That doesn't make sense." Grace said to no one.

Frowning, Grace moved to the OPS station and began searching for a computer problem. All systems read 'green'. Grace leaned back in the seat stared out of the cockpit's window.

"Hello?" Delaney's voice called through the open hatch, "Is anyone aboard?"

"Ian!" Grace leapt out of her seat and proceeded headlong down the exit ramp.

"I'm happy to see you too." he laughed as she bounded in front of him.

"It's about time something went right today." Grace sighed.

Delaney frowned, "What's wrong?"

"The shuttle's broken and I don't know how to fix it. The helm is unresponsive but all the diagnostics say everything is operational. I've been beating my head against it for an hour and half and frankly I'm getting frustrated."

"I don't blame you." Delaney held his chin as he thought, "I think I know who to call."

"What are you up to?" Grace asked, "You've shed your armour and are wearing a standard issue uniform again so I assume the situation is stable."

"It's quiet enough for now." Delaney replied, "Your Daggit and Radil are rounding up all of Solarian's Security Services personnel and detaining them in our forcefield fence. The Romans are falling over themselves to help."

"We have a certain prestige with the Roman Star Legion." Grace admitted wryly.

"I'd guessed that." Delaney dryly observed.

"So what are you up to?" Grace enquired.

"I'm on my way to negotiate with the captives in the bunker." Delaney grinned, "Captain McKinley wants to expand my résumé."

"How thoughtful of him." Grace teased.

"Any way, I had a spare moment and wanted to see if you'd be free later." Delaney revealed.

"I think so." Grace considered her vague schedule, "We've synched our schedules with the planet's solar day."

"We have to." Delaney said and then he amended his statement with, "Well, at least _I _have. I stayed over on my duty shift in order to operate within the planetary day."

"You probably didn't have as long of a day as I did." Grace chuckled.

"No need to compete." Delaney scolded her.

"I wouldn't dream of it." she earnestly promised.

They shared a laugh and then Delaney's comm badge chirped.

Annoyed, Delaney slapped the badge, "Delaney here."

"Adams. The engineers have patched in a comm unit. You can talk to the prisoners now. Dr. Sikorsky is here with a medical team standing by."

"I'll be there in a moment." Delaney replied. Turning to Grace, he grimaced, "I have to go."

She nodded, "I know. Good luck."

"I'll get your help sent down." he promised.

"That would be greatly appreciated." Grace admitted.

"Until later." Delaney said hopefully.

"How will you find me?" Grace wondered.

"I'll search your entire tent city if I have to." Delaney laughed and strode off.

Grace held herself as she watched him go. Biting her lower lip, she pondered what she was feeling. She _was_ definitely feeling _something_. It felt as though there was something left unspoken between herself and Delaney.

_I wish T'Kir were here._ Grace thought miserably, _She'd help me sort out what's going on._

Turning back to the shuttle, she heaved a heavy sigh. _All I have is this damned shuttle._ Grace felt unaccustomedly vulnerable. _I don't like this._

Girding up her resolve, she climbed back into the shuttle and lost herself in her investigations of the ship's mysterious ailment. It was that or cry.


	34. Chapter 34

261

Riker scrambled to meet the _Equinox _as it sat down. Rhiann popped the hatch and Riker climbed aboard. He rushed into the cockpit, almost knocking Rhiann back into her seat. Danan sat in the co-pilot's seat. She was limp, held upright by her crash harness.

"Who's idea was this?" Riker asked while surveying the harness.

"Mine." Rhiann confessed, "I didn't want her falling out of the seat and hitting her head."

Riker gave her a warm smile, "Good thinking."

Riker undid Danan's restraints and lifted her out of the seat. He carried her out of the shuttle and headed deeper into the assembled throng of tents. He reached her tent and went inside. Laying her down on the cot, he rose and studied his next project.

He gently undid her utility belt and removed it. Next he unbuckled her boots and took them off. After a moment's consideration, Riker unzipped the front of her coveralls. Finally, he draped a pair of blankets over her.

Riker silently stood and watched her breath. When he was assured that she would be all right on her own, he exited the tent. Zipping the front of the tent shut, he rose to face two confused crewmen.

"What did Captain Macen mean when he said you were in command now?" one of the pair asked.

"Is the Captain leaving?" the other wanted to know.

Riker gave them a gentle smile, "Gather everyone you can find. Have everyone gather behind the infirmary. I'll explain everything there."

"Yes sir." they chimed and scurried off.

_That'll cover everyone outside of Dracas' engineers and those guarding the prisoners from the brig. _Riker realised, _Now if I could only give Brin the speech at the same time._

Riker sighed at made his way to the area he'd designated. Along the way he was met by a half dozen crewmen that had the same questions. Riker assured them that everything was all right and urged them to gather others with the same concern. By the time he reached the field behind the medical tent, over twenty crewmen had gathered.

Riker scanned the faces of the milling crowd. Some were expectant. Others were fretful. A few were angry.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" Riker called out.

Everyone's focus shifted to him and he motioned for them to approach, "Gather around. I have some explaining to do and an announcement to make."

Feet shuffled and the group packed in around him, "I've been asked several times about what happened to the change of command aboard the _Obsidian_. I can explain."

"You do that!" and angry voice called out from the back of the crowd.

"Captain Macen and I had decided to shift the change of command. The Captain would serve as the Mission Commander and I would be the Captain of the ship." Riker watched astonishment wash through the group as they realised they _hadn't _misheard the general ship wide announcement, "That decision has been reversed. Captain Macen will remain the Commanding Officer of the _Obsidian_."

_Or whatever ship we get next, _Riker thought as he continued, "I will serve as 1st Officer. I will be handling the daily functions of the ship so as to allow the Captain the opportunity to concentrate on the investigations we are assigned to."

"What about Forger?" the same angry voice bellowed.

"Shannon Forger will serve as Executive Officer." Riker revealed, "This position will be marginally lower than my own. She will be in command of the gamma shift and oversee personnel matters. When you are reviewed it will be by her."

"What happened to the position of 2nd Officer?" one of the Sciences team asked.

Riker smiled, "Hopefully, Hannah Grace will remain as the 2nd Officer. We'd be lucky to have her."

The assembled crewmen seemed satisfied with that. Telrik asked, "Where is the Captain?"

"Captain Macen is overseeing the final aspects of our investigation. Next, he will be arranging transport for all of you and arrange for a salvage team to retrieve the ship and take her to a repair yard." Riker assured him. Riker called out to the dispersing crowd, "If you have any further needs, see Commander Forger and Chief Parva. They will facilitate your requests to the best of their ability."

Riker stood still and let the group return to their tents or into huddles around the picnic tables. Kort exited the medical tent and came up alongside Riker.

"Good speech. Is it true?"

Riker grinned, "It will be once I tell Macen what my first, and last, command decisions as the CO of the ship are."

Kort chuckled, "Macen will not be pleased with being backed into a corner."

"No." Riker agreed, "But he will see reason. My plan is the best of all worlds. It accomplishes Macen's goal without alienating the crew. It retains the desired command structure with the swapping of a few titles."

"He will still command during moments of crises." Kort predicted, "Can you accept that?"

"He completely trusts me with the ship when he's not aboard." Riker replied, "He'll expand my responsibilities as that trust permeates our professional relationship."

"So be it." Kort grunted, "If you can live with it, so can I."

Riker grinned, "Thanks for the support."

Kort looked uncomfortable, "I have a favour to ask."

"Name it."

"Teach me to woo non-Klingon women." Kort requested.

"Thinking specifically of Radil." Riker clarified and Kort nodded. Riker rubbed his chin, "I'll see what I can do, but there's no promises."

"Agreed." Kort replied happily, "When do we start?"

"Not now." Riker said sternly, "We have other concerns right now."

"Of course." Kort agreed, "Perhaps tomorrow?"

"You're hopeless." Riker laughed and walked away.

"So does that mean we're on for tomorrow?" Kort called out.

* * *

"Form a line and everyone will be processed one at a time." Delaney announced.

Sikorsky and her med team were at the head of the line, examining every passer-by for injury. Agwynn stood by Delaney. The Roman wore a grim smile.

"See?" Agwynn boasted, "Docile as lambs."

"I can't say that reassured me." Delaney rebutted, "They could by lying low, waiting for an opportunity to strike."

"They still have to get past Daggit and Radil." Agwynn reassured his comrade, "They will ferret out the troublemakers."

Delaney frowned, "I can only hope you're right. Even with our combined forces these people outnumber us two to one. If someone were to arm them…"

"Most of them lack the will." Agwynn observed, "They will be easily herded and corralled."

Delaney shook his head at Agwynn's certainty. His job was to plan for _every _contingency and that included an all out revolt. T'Kir's programs had opened up the database so the Starfleet personnel had gained access to the Solarian employee's records. The SID pair could read a person's personnel jacket as they interviewed him or her.

Generally, it was easy to identify to identify the Security Services employees. They wore uniforms. Three off duty officers had been identified thus far. In all twenty-seven guards had been detained. Earlier Delaney had dispatched Starfleet officers to collect those stunned by the SID team members. His people had had located a hold out pocket of Solarian troops. They were on the roof, scared witless by the multiple fly-bys.

* * *

"My name's James Brewster." a stunned looking man informed Daggit. Daggit typed the name into the padd he held.

Daggit turned to Radil, "Administrative Assistant."

"Go back to your quarters, Mr. Brewster. We'll contact you if you're needed." Radil instructed. The young man numbly nodded and moved on. The next woman in line wore the Security uniform.

Radil snapped her fingers, "Legionnaire, escort this young lady to the detention centre."

The Legionnaire placed his fist on his chest then took hold of the Solarian officers arm and escorted out of the area. Another Legionnaire stepped up to take his place.

Daggit grinned, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Of course not." Radil denied it.

"Come on," Daggit coaxed, "you can admit it."

A guilty smile crossed Radil's features, "It does make one feel like the Prophets themselves."

"Just don't get used to it." Daggit advised.

"Actually, I was thinking about making my Security team salute me like that." Radil eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Dracas would join them." Daggit opined.

"That boy is still in for a serious wake up call." Radil predicted, "Wait until he hits a Federation Home World."

Daggit smirked, "That'll be an interesting day."

"Hope it isn't fatal for someone."

Daggit shook his head, "We need to get back to work."

"Next!" Radil called out.

* * *

Macen and T'Kir materialised on the pads of the _Intrepid's _Transporter Room 1. McKinley stood there waiting for them. He wore a carefully neutral expression.

"Uh oh." Macen said, "I sense disapproval."

"Get over here." McKinley held out his hand, "Say hello."

Macen shook McKinley's hand. T'Kir held hers out next.

"Always a pleasure, T'Kir." McKinley said as he shook her hand.

"All right, the suspense is killing me." Macen admitted, "What's on your mind?"

"It can wait until we reach my Ready Room." McKinley replied.

"Where's Admiral Johnson?" Macen wondered.

"He's in the middle of an ultrasecure conference." McKinley revealed, "He can't be disturbed."

_That means Council business_, Macen thought. He didn't say anything. McKinley's crew knew about the Admiral's involvement with the Council of Five but the less said about the better. After a short turbolift ride, the group entered the _Intrepid's _bridge.

"Where's Pedrossi?" Macen asked.

"Off duty." McKinley explained, "Beta shift just came on."

"Oh, the beauty of three shifts." T'Kir wheedled.

"Stow it." Macen murmured.

"Give me what I want and I will." T'Kir countered.

Macen groaned as McKinley ushered them into his retreat.

"Have a seat." McKinley offered, "Makes yourselves comfortable. Can I get you anything?"

"I'd love some coffee." Macen said.

"Black?"

"Vanilla latte." Macen clarified.

"And you?" McKinley turned to T'Kir.

"A shot of whiskey." T'Kir replied eagerly.

McKinley laughed, "Will synthahol do?"

"In a pinch." T'Kir groused.

"We'll break out the real stuff later." McKinley offered, "I also have a cache of

Romulan Ale aboard."

"That'd remind me of home." T'Kir admitted.

McKinley placed the orders with the replicator and served everyone. Once he was done he ordered his own beverage and sat down. Macen couldn't take it any more.

"What is on your mind?"

McKinley adopted a stern visage and sighed, "Do you know what kind of trouble you've stirred up?"

"Nope." Macen admitted.

"You've created an interstellar incident by breaking the Roman quarantine and I have to clean up the mess." McKinley said with frustration, "I don't care about how many regs you broke but I am concerned with the mess you've created. The Federation's on the verge of a diplomatic disaster."

"I'm sorry about the trouble." Macen replied, "I really am. The last thing I want to do is create a brush fire that you have to put out but the lid was coming off of Magna Roma no matter what I did."

McKinley grimaced, "That's the worst part about it. We weren't ready for them to leap into interstellar politics. They may not be ready."

"They'll have to be." Macen said.

"Yes." McKinley sighed again, "They will."

The door chimed and McKinley said come. It slid aside to reveal Admiral Johnson. He looked weary. He strolled into the room and gazed directly at Macen.

"You have no idea what kind of shitstorm you've set off." Johnson warned, "Even Alynna is willing to let you hang for this one."

"Nice to be loved." Macen retorted, "I'm the unwanted stepchild."

Johnson chuckled, "It's not that bad yet. Amanda stuck by you, as did Edward Noyce. I threw my vote your way, God knows why, and we carried the vote."

"Thanks." Macen said cheerily.

"You could've fired us though." T'Kir insisted, "I could use the vacation."

"Ignore her." Macen urged, "She knows not what she says."

"Okay," McKinley laughed, "break it up. Do I have to separate you two?"

T'Kir crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at Macen. He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Johnson.

"So what does the Council want to do about the Romans?"

"I'm to pave the way for a Federation Diplomatic team." Johnson divulged.

Macen grinned, "A brilliant idea."

"Why are you so supportive of them?" Johnson asked, "This mutual admiration society you and the Romans are enjoying a mystery to me. According to your own report, they imprisoned you and tried to kill you."

"Pish posh." Macen waved the comment aside, "It was a simple misunderstanding."

"Are you sure you don't want to retire?" Johnson joked, "I think you've cracked up."

"Nonsense." Macen rebutted, "I am as sane as…well as her."

"Thanks." T'Kir retorted, "Label me as crazy why don'cha?"

"You were committed to an insane asylum." Macen reminded her.

"As if I don't remember that." T'Kir exclaimed, "Most boring two years of my life. Everyone was nuts."

"That's the point, m'love." Macen chuckled

"That's it." McKinley declared with a smile, "Opposite corners."

"If you don't mind I'll have a seat on the couch." Johnson said and lowered himself onto the sofa.

"You want anything?" McKinley asked.

"Two litres of Romulan Ale?" Johnson requested.

"That bad of a day?" McKinley asked.

"A Macen Council session is always taxing." Johnson admitted, "Our friend has an uncanny knack for creating situations with questionable legality."

"It's a gift." Macen smiled.

"Just be glad Jellico isn't on the Council any more." Johnson replied, "He'd have used this to ram down another prohibition of employing privateers."

"We survived it the last time it happened." Macen shrugged.

"The work was easier." T'Kir huffed.

"Seriously," Johnson leaned forward, "have you thought about retiring? You may have earned some powerful friends during the late domestic turmoil but you're fast using them up."

"Are you telling me its time to quit?" Macen asked.

"I'm suggesting to you that its time to be more circumspect." Johnson explained.

"I'd settle for you not creating a crisis every time you get an assignment. Take a break from old habits." McKinley added, "We have other assignments and we can't always be there."

"I'll keep it in mind." Macen promised.

"That's all we're asking for." Johnson said.

"Speak for yourself." McKinley interjected, "You're rolling in the latinum. Mind floating me a loan?"

Macen laughed, "We can discuss it later."

"Anything else we can do for you while we're here?" McKinley asked.

"I need a message sent to Starfleet requesting a salvage tug." Macen requested, "We think we can save the _Obsidian_."

"Is it possible?" McKinley wondered.

"My engineers are inspecting the hull even as we speak." Macen revealed.

"Well good luck. Losing a ship is hard." Johnson looked mischievous, "Although I suspect you're used to it by now."

"Ouch." Macen winced.

"Anyone else up for that Romulan Ale that was mentioned?" T'Kir asked.

McKinley looked at Johnson, "I am off duty."

"So am I." Johnson replied with a happy smile.

"It's a bit early for us." Macen commented then shrugged, "But what the hell? The company is worth it."

"Let's go." Johnson said gleefully.

* * *

"Hello?" a woman's voice called out, "Anybody there?"

Grace hit her head as she came out from underneath the helm. She muttered a particularly vile curse and rubbed her head. The voice called again.

"Is anyone here?"

"Yes." Grace yelled in annoyance, "I'm coming."

Grace scrambled to her feet and made for the hatch. She'd unzipped her flightsuit to her hips and shrugged out of the top of it. The sleeves were tied around her waist. Her gunbelt lay draped across a passenger seat.

Grace squinted as the sun hit her eyes. As her vision cleared, she made out two women standing in front of the shuttle. Both wore Starfleet uniforms. One, the younger, had two equipment cases draped from her shoulders.

"Can I help you?" Grace asked.

"No." Liefers replied, "But we can help you. We're Commander Delaney's rescue party."

Grace brightened, "Glad to hear it Lieutenant. But shouldn't you be putting your squadrons through their paces or conducting after action debriefings?"

Liefers smiled, "I've already done those. I'm all yours."

"Glad to hear it." Grace sighed, "Whose your friend?"

"This here is Ensign Emily Johnson, no relation to the big man. Johnson is one of our up and coming engineers. She's here to fix your ship." Liefers made the introductions then smiled, "With a little help from me of course."

"I'd be grateful." Grace admitted, "Come aboard."

Johnson trudged aboard and set her cases down. Liefers followed. They took a look around.

"Everything seems normal." Liefers commented, "There's no visible damage to the exterior or interior."

"You scanned the exterior already?" Grace asked.

"Yes." Liefers replied, "I did a visual search to confirm the readings."

"And?"

"Nothing." Liefers answered.

"That's what the Engineering and OPS stations say as well." Grace revealed, "But the helm is unresponsive. The board doesn't even activate."

Johnson shrugged out her uniform jacket. Next she rolled up her sleeves. Unzipping her shirt to her chest, she moved over to the Engineering station. She clapped her hands together and rubbed them.

"Talk to me." she said and sat down at the station. She closed her eyes and waited.

"What's she doing?" Grace whispered.

"Becoming one with the ship." Liefers whispered back.

"What?"

Liefers shrugged, "I don't know but it works."

Johnson's eyes flew open and she furiously began working at the station. After a moment's worth of work, she frowned.

"This isn't right." she announced, "The diagnostics show the Helm as receiving power but we know that isn't right."

Grace looked abashed, "I missed that."

"That's why she's the engineer." Liefers said consolingly.

"Lieutenant," Johnson interjected, "would you man OPS? See if it shows a data feed to the Helm as well."

Lifers complied, "I don't see…wait, there it is. All systems read 'green'. She shows she's active."

"Only she isn't." Johnson frowned, "Let's check the source. Shut your station down."

Liefers smiled as she did what she was told. Johnson was too deep in thought to remember the niceties of formal address so Liefers overlooked the omitted, "Ma'am".

Johnson moved to the centre of the shuttle's rear compartment and knelt. She opened a hatch and flipped open her tricorder. Visually examining the computer core, she noted a broken data shunt. She detached all of the various data shunts out of the core and hefted it to the deck.

Very intently, she scanned every inch of its surface and it's interior. Folding her tricorder shut she looked to Grace and Liefers, "This is the problem."

"The computer core?" Grace asked.

"Yep." Johnson wiped her hands of on her pant legs, "These things are hardened against electromagnetic interference, not impact."

Johnson stood, "There are fractures all across the matrices. The part of the computer that still works is just cycling the last scan completed before it was damaged. That accounts for the diagnostic discrepancy."

Grace looked over to Liefers, "She's good."

Liefers grinned, "You haven't seen anything yet."

"Please, I'm blushing." Johnson retorted then grew serious, "That accounts for the diagnostics but we still have a power flow problem that needs mending. But first, I have to complete this repair."

She rose and proceeded to her jacket. Plucking the comm badge off of it, she tapped it with her thumb, "Johnson to Smiley."

"Smiley here."

"Derek, I need you to replicate a computer core from a _Waverider_-class shuttle and beam it to my position." Johnson requested, "I also need a data shunt for the core."

"If I do this for you, will you be so grateful that you'll say "Yes" if I ask you out again?"

"Derek," Johnson scolded, "we've had this conversation."

"Had to try."

"Just get to the replicator and get my parts." Johnson instructed.

"Yes, ma'am. Smiley out."

"Now, we wait." Johnson said with a wry grin. She affixed the comm badge to her shirt and stepped out of the shuttle.

"I like her." Grace said to Liefers.

"Johnson is a good kid." Liefers agreed, "Caplan has plans for her."

Grace chuckled, "I bet."

"So," Liefers said cagily, "any thoughts on the suggestion I made to you the last time we met?"

"Which suggestion?" Grace wondered\.

"The one where you give up the glamorous life of a secret agent and become a fighter jock." Liefers reminded her, "You're a natural. I know a dozen Flight Ops commanders that would love to have you. I certainly would jump at the chance."

"I'm flattered." Grace admitted, "I really am."

"But?" Liefers asked.

"I owe it to Captain Macen and the team to stand by them." Grace explained.

"Is this a 'Debt of Honour" kind of thing?" Liefers asked

"Yeah." Grace ruefully admitted, "I put them through hell and they stood by me. A few reluctantly did it but the point is they _did _it. I can't abandon them."

"Delaney will be disappointed." Liefers teased.

"Why is it that everyone that I talk to is trying to get me together with Ian Delaney?" Grace grew agitated.

"Maybe they know something you don't." Liefers offered.

"We're friends." Grace declared, "Period."

Liefers grinned, "I think thou dost protest too much."

"Whatever." a grumpy Grace replied.

Liefers merely smiled as Johnson reboarded the shuttle. She carried a computer core and a data shunt. The engineer knelt next to the core's access and storage port. She replaced the core and in installed it.

"Lieutenant, if you'll fire up the OPS station and test the core," Johnson suggested, "we'll see if this piece of junk works."

"Did Ensign Smiley program it?" Liefers enquired.

"If he didn't then I'll kill him." Johnson growled.

Liefers decided to leave that one alone. She fired up the OPS station and ran a diagnostic. She had to run a system calibration and then everything worked. A diagnostic revealed that Helm was not receiving data."

"It's working properly now." she announced.

"Good." Johnson replied. She sealed up the core's hatch and rose to her feet. returning to the Engineering station, she took a seat and activated the console.

"What do we have here?" she asked as she read the results of her diagnostic, "We have a disconnected power conduit at the third junction. Easy to fix."

"Well, it looks like you'll have your shuttle back, Lieutenant." Liefers commented as Johnson went to work.

"Why don't you join me for dinner as soon as the Ensign is done?" Liefers offered.

"It'd be lunch for me." Grace pointed out.

"Whatever works." Liefers smiled, "The boys and girls in the Squadron Mess would love to have you."

"All right." Grace nodded, "I'll do it."

"Good." Liefers was satisfied, "Once we can get this bird aloft and take her out on a shakedown flight, we can return to the _Intrepid_."

"Sounds good." Grace remarked.


	35. Chapter 35

21

"All right, move those cots into the detention area." Delaney instructed a team of Security officers. The forcefield was lowered and they proceeded into the confinement area. Daggit, Radil and Delaney stood vigil over the exposed Starfleet personnel. A team of engineers was erecting a tarpaulin roof over the detainees.

It took the Security team four forays into the detention zone to set up all the cots. Blankets were distributed and rations given at the same time.

"What?" a Solarian agent yelled as he held up a ration bar, "No warm meals?"

Daggit quailed the man with a look. The others shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Delaney grinned.

"Nice trick." he murmured, "They actually think you'll kill them."

"I will." Daggit replied.

Delaney blinked. He was certain he'd misheard Daggit. Although, he conceded, the Angosian looked implacable. Delaney began to wonder if some of the wilder stories he'd heard about Macen's team were true.

Delaney shook his head. _There's no way Hannah could be involved with a group as reckless as these people have been described as_, he thought. Although, he knew from his own past that dark deeds were occasionally necessary. He couldn't condemn anyone for exceeding the usual bounds of morality in the pursuit of justice.

Still, Macen and company tended to fight criminals by being crazier and more ruthless than they were or so the stories went. The conviction in Daggit's voice certainly hinted at the truth behind the rumours. Radil's lack of response bespoke an intimacy with casual violence. Given her past it was to be expected Delaney supposed.

Delaney mentally shrugged and turned to Daggit and Radil, "It's been a pleasure working with you folks but my duty shift is up and I'm looking forward to a hot meal and some peace and quiet."

"Take care." Daggit replied, "We'll get back to our encampment in a moment or two."

"Tell Hannah I wish her luck." Radil smirked.

"All right." Delaney replied uncertainly, "If I see her that is."

Radil's smirk grew even more pronounced, "You're inventive. I'm sure you'll find a way."

"Right." Delaney was sceptical. He tapped his comm badge, "Delaney to _Intrepid_, one to transport."

Delaney disappeared in a shimmer of energy. Radil grinned and punched Daggit on the shoulder.

"No matter what happens tonight, that boy's in for an interesting evening."

Daggit nodded, "I'm sure he is. Let's call Rhiann. I'm done here."

"Sounds good to me Boss."

* * *

Everyone in McKinley's quarters was enjoying a good laugh. McKinley took another shot of Romulan ale and shook his head, "He honestly thought he was a three year old girl after T'Kir was done with him? Remind me never to call you in on a hostage situation."

Macen grinned, "At least you'd know it'd be resolved."

"I just don't know how I'd be able to present it in my log." McKinley chuckled.

Macen's grin turned sly, "The worst part was when Dinnuvio wanted us to sing him a lullaby."

"You're certain you don't want any ale?" Johnson asked.

"I'm fine with my coffee." Macen replied.

"Just out of morbid curiosity," Johnson began, "may I ask why you don't want any? Do you just find it revolting or is there another reason? As best as I can recall, I've never seen you imbibe."

"And you won't." Macen said with a rueful smile, "I have nothing against alcohol. I just don't like its effects."

"That's why you drink it slowly." Johnson chuckled.

Macen shook his head, "My people have a problem with liquor. It causes dimensional dissonance."

"Dimensional what?" McKinley asked.

Macen smiled, "My people exist on more than one plane of reality at a time. Alcohol causes us to lose our footing on this reality, our baseline, and get lost in other planes of existence."

Johnson and McKinley exchanged glances. Johnson shifted his attention to T'Kir, "And what about you my dear?"

T'Kir finished her glass, "I just screw around in other people's minds."

McKinley cleared his throat, "Want another?"

T'Kir shook her head, "One's my limit. Any more and I'll lose all my restraint."

"It's just as well." Johnson sighed, "It's getting rather late for us."

Macen stood and handed his mug back to McKinley, "It's just as well. We have things that need looking after."

"I'm thinking about inviting Admiral Scipio over." Johnson revealed, "Any chance you'd put a good word in for me?"

"I'll order him to attend." Macen grinned, "He'll show."

"Whatever works." Johnson chuckled.

"I detailed your situation to Starfleet Command." McKinley added, "They're sending a ship to pick up your crew and a salvage team."

"Thank you." Macen said gratefully, "For everything."

McKinley shrugged, "We were passing by the neighbourhood and thought we'd stop by."

"Do you need assistance find the transporter room?" Johnson enquired.

"We're good." Macen assured him.

"See ya." T'Kir interjected on their way down the corridor.

"Do you think she was reading our minds?" McKinley wore a lopsided grin.

"Will we ever know is the question." Johnson remarked.

"That pair definitely form an unholy alliance." McKinley observed, "I'd hate to be the one threatening them."

"Too true." Johnson mused, "Well, good night Jim. Thank you for the ale."

"As if I need to remind you that the door's always open." McKinley smiled.

* * *

After dinner in the Pilot's Mess, Grace had tracked down Alessandro Pedrossi. The two had spent a quiet hour in the Officer's Mess comparing notes on starship navigation. Finding some of her complaints regarding the helm controls mirrored by her younger counterpart, Grace felt rather justified as she left the Mess. She also wondered if she'd ever been as young as Pedrossi.

She was wandering by Delaney's quarters when Delaney appeared. He was walking down the corridor towards his quarters. He seemed distracted. He was staring at the floor and she could swear he was muttering to himself.

Grace leaned up against the bulkhead next to his door. Delaney grew closer and a grinning Grace couldn't resist the urge to speak any longer.

"You aren't very observant." she teased, "And you being the Tactical Officer. For shame."

Delaney snapped to. His eyes focused on Grace and he grinned in relief, "Hannah, it's you. I was just going to start looking for you."

"I'm here." Grace waved her hands up and down her body.

Delaney's grin widened, "I can see that. You make a very inviting sight to come home to."

Grace smiled, "I aim to please."

"Want to come in?"

Grace brightened, "I thought you'd never ask, chum."

They entered his quarters and Delaney called for the lights. The lights came on and Grace took a look around. Holo pictures littered a corner of Delaney's living quarters and she strolled over and began to examine them.

"Is this your family?" she asked.

Delaney came up behind her, "Yes. That was all of us before my parents died. I still have my brother but it's still not the same."

"I'm sorry." Grace squeezed his shoulder, "I know how hard it is to lose someone."

Delaney's eyes met hers, "I guess you would. Losing your family and your entire race must be difficult as well. Why'd you choose humanity over your people?"

Grace shrugged, " I chose my adopted family. I'd hurt the others so badly. All I wanted was a chance to make it up to them."

"Do you ever regret it?"

Grace held herself, "Sometimes. Late at night I sometimes play the 'what if' game."

"And in the morning?" Delaney wondered.

"I'm always relieved that I made the decision I did." Grace asserted confidently.

"Look, I was going to take a shower." Delaney explained, "Do you mind waiting?"

"Sure." Grace said brightly, "Take your time."

"Thanks." Delaney eagerly took off into the bedroom.

"This part was unexpected." Grace murmured and sat down on the couch. She folded her arms over her chest and waited while the sonic shower hummed. It turned off almost as fast as it had come on. A few minutes later, Delaney appeared wearing his uniform pants and a regulation undershirt.

"Do you ever step out of uniform?" Grace laughed.

"When I'm on leave." Delaney insisted, "Or undercover."

"Like on Risa?" Grace asked.

"Exactly." Delaney nodded.

"As I recall, you tried to disarm me when we met. You tried and failed." Grace teased.

Delaney grinned ruefully, "I remember. I was impressed. Still am."

"I have moves you haven't dreamt of." Grace smiled.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Delaney rubbed the back of his neck, "Look, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Don't tell me you've met someone and we can't be friends any more." Grace was crestfallen.

"No." Delaney replied then more forcefully, "No. God, no."

"Thank god." Grace sighed.

"No, it's not that but it is about us." Delaney informed her.

Grace was apprehensive again, "What?"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking." Delaney ran a hand through his hair, "A helluva lot of thinking actually. We share so many of the same passions. You're intelligent, funny and beautiful. I look forward to you letters every day and I spend half my time thinking up reasons to send you a message."

"The plain truth of the matter is that I can't get you off my mind. I'm crazy about you. It's just that lately I've been thinking about what if we explored a relationship. Nothing concrete. No forced commitments but a chance to see if something develops."

Delaney looked expectantly at Grace, "That's it. I've spilled my guts, laid my soul bare. All I can do now is ask you, what do you think? Am I crazy?"

Grace bit her lower lip. She stared at Delaney for several moments and then she dove off the couch and tackled Delaney. Her lips met his and she kissed him hungrily. After several kisses, she sat up, straddling him.

"Does this mean yes?" Delaney grinned.

"Shut up and take me to bed." Grace ordered in a husky voice as she lowered herself atop Delaney.

* * *

"Gahhh!" Danan came awake with a start. She found herself drenched with sweat, sitting atop a pair of cots in a…tent? She scooted to the edge of the cots and gingerly put her feet on the ground. _Socks? _she wondered.

Danan had no memory whatsoever of taking her boots off much less arriving in this tent. The last thing she recalled was working over the Omicron corpse. Danan groaned. _Has that bloody thing done something to me?_ Danan began searching for her equipment belt in the gloom that permeated the tent.

"Ow!" Danan cried out as she ran her head into a hanging object. She examined it with her hands and discovered that it was a field lamp. She switched it on and its light illuminated every corner of the tent. Standing stocking footed, she planted her fists on her hips and surveyed the area.

_Sonic shower, hmmm. I could use that._ Danan mused, wrinkling her nose at her own stench. She noticed the duffel bags across the way and she knelt to inspect them. _Definitely my clothes. _she concluded. Grabbing what she needed, she went to the refresher portion of the tent and zipped the "door" closed.

Using the portable toilet first, Danan finished stripping and activated the shower. Modulated sound waves washed over her, stripping her body of the unwanted debris and secretions. Danan groaned and stretched. A side effect of the harmonics was that they gave you a total body massage.

Reluctantly, Danan deactivated the shower and bent to retrieve her change of clothes. She dressed quickly. She unzipped the room divider and emerged clothed in sweat pants and a tank top. Using something T'Kir described as a "scrunchie", Danan pulled her hair back. She moved to the foot of the cots and found her boots and equipment belt. Retrieving her tricorder, she sat down and began reviewing the data she'd collected from Ezexial's corpse so far.

"Damn it." she muttered, "I'm missing something."

_You're missing a laboratory._ her mind taunted. Danan sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. _I'm getting nowhere fast._

She heard voices outside of her tent and a shape loomed in front of her "doorway". Danan scrambled for her phaser and pulled it free in time for the "menace" to speak.

"Lees?" Riker softly called, "Are you up?"

Danan sagged in relief. She stood and went to the flap. She unzipped it and found a grinning Riker holding two trays of food. The smells were tantalising her.

"Going to shoot me, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up and get in here." Danan demanded, "Don't drop the food."

Riker bowed, "As you command."

Riker stepped into the tent and placed the trays, side by side, on the cots. He then retrieved the wrapped silverware from his flightsuit's breast pocket and laid it out next to the food. Danan was mesmerised.

"It's all yours." Riker coaxed her, "I've already had mine. Kort dropped by a few minutes ago and said you'd be rousing soon so I grabbed you one of everything."

"It's beautiful." a salivating Danan murmured. She plopped down on the cots next to the trays and grabbed a fork. She began tearing away at her food wolfing down one bite after another.

Riker chuckled, "Easy Lees. You don't want to get cramps."

"I haven't eaten in two days." she protested through a full mouth.

"We'd guessed that." Riker revealed.

"'We'?" Danan repeated, taking a pull from her glass.

"You've had a very thorough going over first by Dr. Sikorsky and then by Kort." Riker explained, "They're mutual prescription was for rest and refreshments."

"Andreja?" Danan's eyes went wide, "I needed to talk to her. I need a lab…"

Riker smiled, "It's taken care of. Brin arranged for that brute of a corpse to be transferred to the _Intrepid_. Sikorsky herself will assist you in performing the autopsy."

"When?" Danan asked eagerly.

"As soon as you're up for it." Riker revealed.

Danan stood, "Let's go."

"At ease Space Cadet." Riker laughed, "You still haven't filled all of your prescription. Besides, Sikorsky's off duty and probably asleep by now."

Danan subsided, "First thing tomorrow morning then."

Riker held up his hands, "I won't try and stop you."

Danan hesitated, "Thank you." She paused again, "You know, I'm starting to get glimmers from my trip here. I can remember someone getting me to the shuttle. The shuttle lifted off and then set down. Someone else picked me up and carried me away."

Danan's sea green eyes bored into Riker's blue ones, "What I remember most is that I felt _safe_."

Riker smiled and Danan asked, "That was you, wasn't it?"

Riker nodded, "It was the least I could do."

"It's been a long time since I felt that way." Danan admitted, "Thank you for that."

"What's the motto of the SID? 'We aim to please'?" Riker joked.

"Not in this outfit." Danan snorted.

"Anyway," Riker got back on topic, "I know I came on a little strong at first. I'm still really sorry about that. I just wanted to prove to you, and me, that I can show my appreciation for you without making demands."

Danan smiled as she nodded, "Thank you. It's appreciated."

"And before I forget," Riker produced a hypo, "Kort wants you to inject this before you go to bed."

"What is it?"

"It's a sleep aid." Riker answered, "It'll help you rest better and longer."

"Okay." Danan agreed, "But won't you be here to inject it for me?"

Riker grinned, "I will. _But_ first I have to talk with Brin."

"Uh oh." Danan grimaced, "Trouble?"

Riker shrugged, "We'll see."

"Good luck." Danan called as Riker exited the tent, "I'll be waiting."

* * *

Grace slid atop Delaney and sat up. Delaney drank her in with his eyes.

"You're incredible."

Grace laughed, "You have no idea."

"I want to find out." Delaney assured her.

"Ian," Grace bit her lip, "I have to warn you…"

"Warn me about what?" Delaney asked.

"Compared to average humans I'd be considered…genetically enhanced. My people represent the perfect human genome at this stage of their evolution." Grace explained.

"What's that have to do with what we're about to do?" Delaney wondered if she was trying to kill the mood.

"It means I'm about to rock your world." Grace declared.

"You already have." confessed Delaney.

Grace lowered herself down and throatily whispered in his ear, "Not like this."

Ten minutes later, a passer by in the corridor outside Delaney's quarters heard the Lt. Commander scream, "Oh my God!" She tapped her comm badge and alerted Security as she hurried past.

* * *

"Brin." Riker greeted as he approached the table where Macen and T'Kir sat, "T'Kir."

"`Lo Tom." T'Kir grinned, "You're in trouble."

"You've heard?" Riker grimaced.

Macen chuckled, "Calm down, Tom. I'm not mad. I find your solution to be rather eloquent. I was just wondering why you didn't come to me with it first before announcing it to the crew?"

"You could say it was my first, and last, command decision as Captain of the _Obsidian_. You aptly demonstrated that you were ultimately going to retain command no matter what our respective titles were. I just patched the holes up in the command structure and delineated the spheres of responsibility." Riker replied.

"You're sure this is what you want to do?" Macen asked.

"Whether I want to or not it's what _has _to be." Riker suddenly grinned, "And I'm off the hook when it comes to personnel management. Shannon's better at it anyways."

Macen smiled, "If you're happy then so am I."

Riker shook his offered hand, "I think this will work out." Riker grinned ruefully, "If we have a ship."

"Joachim's team just made their report." Macen divulged, "The secondary hull held. She's salvageable. A Starfleet retrieval team is on their way."

"How much yard time?" Riker wondered.

Macen shook his head, "To soon to estimate."

"You really want to sail in her again, don'cha?" T'Kir observed.

"She stood by us." Riker opined, "We should do the same for her."

T'Kir poked Macen, "Remember that. Stand by me."

"Always." Macen promised.

"How's Lees?" T'Kir asked.

Riker brightened, "She's up…for now. She's looking forward to performing the autopsy with Sikorsky tomorrow."

T'Kir shivered, "Yuck."

"I never knew you were squeamish." Riker's grin was absolutely triumphant.

"I've dealt with enough corpses, thank you." T'Kir declared, "I don't need to go looking for them and slice `em up into little bits."

"Too true." Macen concurred.

"You too?" Riker was surprised, "You were a scientist."

"I'm a _social_ scientist." Macen clarified, "I study past and living cultures. Archives rarely bite. Some of the cultures might but they're just being friendly when they do it."

"Ever wish you'd stuck to the academic arena?" Riker wondered.

"Sometimes." Macen shrugged, "But I can't give up this life of crime now."

"What about you?" Riker asked T'Kir, "Any regrets?"

"Nope."

Riker was startled, "None? Come on."

"I couldn't change myself and I'm what drove me to make the decisions I made. I like myself so I don't see any reason to regret what's happened."

"That…that's surprisingly well adjusted." Riker had to admit.

"Don't sound so surprised." T'Kir huffed.

"It's down right…normal."

"No need to get insulting." T'Kir protested.

Macen laughed, "I think you've struck a chord."

Riker nodded, "I think I have. T'Kir, you may be the sanest one out of us all."

"I coulda told ya that." T'Kir remarked, "I'm sane. It's the rest of the universe that's cracked."

Riker laughed, "I'll remember that."

"Enough of me." T'Kir shooed Riker away, "Get back to Lees. She needs you."

"I hope so."

"Keep the faith." T'Kir urged. Riker grinned, waved and walked away.

"Man's got a lot on his mind." T'Kir commented.

"Did you read him?" Macen wondered.

"He was thinking so loud it gave me a headache." T'Kir complained, "He's worried about the ship. He's worried about the crew. He's worried about the team. He's worried about you and me but most of all he's worried about Lees."

"How's he doing with it all?" Macen asked.

"He knows there's nothing much he can do so he does what he can and calls it good." T'Kir divulged.

"Good for him." Macen smiled, "He's learning."

"Not from you." T'Kir insisted.

"Even better." Macen's smile grew, "This way he'll internalise it."

"Are you done with your plate yet?" T'Kir demanded.

"What's your hurry?"

"I want to go back to our tent."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

Macen's eyes widened in realisation, "Okay, I'm done."

"You didn't take much convincing." T'Kir laughed.

"Should I?"

"No." T'Kir fervently shook her head, "You get rid of the plates and I'll go back to the tent."

Macen grinned, "I'll see you in a minute."

"It'd better only be a minute." T'Kir warned, "I mean it."

"It will be." Macen assured her, "I swear."

Macen hurried to the kitchen area and tossed his trays and plates into the growing pile. Running, he returned to the tent and entered it. Zipping the flap shut behind him, he and T'Kir quickly forgot the troubles of the outside world.


	36. Chapter 36

35

A panting Delaney swore as his comm badge started chirping. He rolled over and picked it. Tapping it with his thumb, he spoke.

"Delaney here." he gasped.

"Commander," McKinley's voice came across the circuit, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Delaney struggled to catch his breath, "Why?"

"Security was alerted to a disturbance in your quarters." the CO explained, "They commed you but there was no reply. They've been outside your door for ten minutes chiming you and you haven't responded. Finally they alerted me. What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Delaney swallowed hard, "I've been…busy."

"What kind of explanation is that, mister?"

"It isn't one." Delaney replied miserably.

Grace giggled.

"Is someone there with you?" McKinley enquired.

"Yes sir." Delaney sighed, "Hannah Grace is in my quarters."

Delaney could visualise the smirk on McKinley's face, "Carry on then. McKinley out."

Delaney dropped the offending badge and flopped over onto his back. Grace smiled indulgently.

"Poor baby." she cooed, "Need a rest?"

"Hell no." Delaney grinned, "When the thrill ride is over you get back into line."

Grace smiled, "Good. I like your thinking mister. As your Captain told you, carry on. Pleasure me until I scream for mercy."

"I'll do my humble best."

* * *

The next morning, Danan emerged from her tent. She took a look around. Macen and T'Kir were playfully emerging from their tent. The object seemed to be to tickle and poke the other person while they attempted to zip the front flap shut. Shrieks and yelps abounded.

Danan strolled over to them, "Need a referee?"

They stopped and wore gleeful grins. T'Kir spoke first.

"Good to see you rested."

Danan nodded, "Feels good to _be _rested."

"How long did you go without sleep?" Macen enquired.

"Almost a week." Danan glumly admitted.

Macen opened his mouth but T'Kir pushed him aside, "Let _me_ handle this." Wagging a finger at Danan's nose, T'Kir launched into a tirade, "We _need _you, Lisea. We don't need a lifeless husk of a Sciences Specialist. We require you to be alert and actively engaged in whatever task you're assigned to. Besides," T'Kir shrugged, "you're more fun that way."

Danan looked past T'Kir. Macen held his hands up. Slowly, a rueful smile crept across Danan's face.

"All right. Point taken."

"Good." T'Kir said pointedly and she turned to Macen, "See? This command stuff is simple." T'Kir marched off, leaving two stunned teammates in her wake.

"What did you feed her this morning?" Danan enquired.

"Nothing." a beleaguered Macen answered, "We haven't eaten yet.

"Maybe that's it." Danan said slowly, "What's she have in store for today?"

"Securing the ship's computer core." Macen revealed, "Fates help whoever gets in her way."

"You could have told me that before." Danan remarked.

Macen shrugged helplessly, "Who knew?"

* * *

T'Kir took her tray and sat down at a vacant table. Unexpectantly, Grace plopped down next to her. Grace was smiling deliriously. T'Kir's eyes widened in surprise.

"You've had sex!" she accused.

"Keep it down." Grace hissed, "I didn't want to make a shipwide announcement."

"It was Ian Delaney, wasn't it?" T'Kir eagerly asked.

"Why do I get the feeling you know the answer to that without reading my mind?" Grace grew suspicious.

"I can't read yours but I can read his." T'Kir smiled coyly, "He fell for you since the moment you met him on Risa. He took one look at you and the boy was gone."

"You've known?" Grace accused, "You've known all this time and you didn't tell me?"

"Sweetie, some things are better when you find them out for yourself." T'Kir counselled.

"Thanks a lot." Grace gave T'Kir a raspberry.

"I tried to steer you in the right direction." T'Kir reminded her, "You kept up with the same mantra, 'we're just friends'. Whatta load of crap."

Macen and Danan came up to the table carrying their trays. Danan smiled.

"Who's the lucky guy, Hannah?"

Grace's head sank to the tabletop, "Do I just have it stamped on my forehead?"

"Don't feel bad." Macen advised, "Enjoy the moment."

"I want another moment." Grace said, head still down.

"Give it time, Sweetie." T'Kir stroked Grace's head, "I'm sure you'll have another romp."

Grace's head came up and she sat up straight, "I feel like I actually have a chance to build something here, if I don't screw it up."

"If you're always worried about destroying a new relationship, then you will." Danan pointed out, "It's a self fulfilling prophecy."

"So," Grace frowned, "just go with it and let things happen on their own."

"To a point." Danan clarified, "You also have to make your desires and feelings known."

"So far that's not a problem." Grace stated.

"Honesty, understanding, and the ability to compromise on the little things are the secrets of success." Danan said, "But honesty is the most important."

Grace nodded, "Got it. I think."

T'Kir squeezed her shoulder, "You'll do fine."

"I think I'll get some food now." Grace said and rose.

As she walked away, the other three huddled. Danan asked the question on everyone's mind, "Who won the pool?"

"I came close but I don't remember if anyone else is closer." T'Kir admitted.

"The padd with the estimates is in my Ready Room." Macen revealed, "I'll go aboard and get it."

"I wish I would have won." Danan admitted, "I just thought she'd be more skittish than she was."

"I didn't win either and I'm the empath." Macen admitted.

"That leaves Tom, Parva, Rab, Jenrya and Kort unaccounted for." T'Kir ticked off.

"Where are the tickets?" Danan asked.

"On reserve." Macen answered.

"Two weeks on Risa." Danan sighed, "All expenses paid. I could live with that."

"You'll have to settle for something local for now." Macen grinned.

"Spoilsport." Danan groused.

* * *

"So?" Liefers demanded, "Who won? Caplan or Striker?"

Liefers, Pedrossi, Johnson and McKinley were gathered in the Captain's Ready Room. McKinley was reviewing the data on a padd.

"Neither." McKinley said with surprise.

"They're his two best friends." Pedrossi protested, "How could they miss it?"

"Don't leave us hanging, Jim." Johnson insisted, "Who won?"

The door chime sounded and McKinley responded, grateful for the interruption, "Come."

Sikorsky walked in, wearing a knowing smile; "I expect to take my leave before the month is out." With that said, Sikorsky turned and exited the room. The room was stunned.

"She's a psychiatrist." Liefers protested, "Is that fair? I don't think that's fair."

McKinley grinned and held up the padd, "It's right here. She almost called it to the day. She was just a week off." McKinley grew more formal, "A wager is a wager. She won. That's it."

Liefers slumped, "You're right. But how?"

Johnson wore a philosophical smile, "We may never comprehend the mystery."

"All right, everyone back to their posts." McKinley ordered. Johnson left as well. McKinley studied the padd. Sikorsky never failed to amaze him. With one final shake of his head he sat the padd down and started piledriving through the various reports stacking up on his desk.

* * *

Daggit pulled up his pants and fastened them. Parva wrapped a blanket around her torso and watched. She smiled as Daggit's head emerged from the tee shirt he was pulling on.

"What?" he asked.

"Just basking in the moment." Parva confided, "What we did was nice. It was different then I remember. Gentler, more intimate."

"I enjoyed it too." Daggit admitted, "It brought out a side of me that I rarely see."

"Do you wish I'd lost my memory before?" Parva asked, "Were you unhappy?"

Daggit was shocked and it showed, "No. I wasn't unhappy. You were harder. Fiercer. But I was never unhappy. I loved you then and I love you now. I accept you for who you are."

Parva smiled in relief, "I'm glad. I was starting to worry."

Daggit knelt. He leaned forward and kissed her, "There'll be days when I'm unhappy and you will be too. They'll pass and we'll endure."

"That's why I'm so excited that you asked me to move in." Parva said happily.

Daggit shifted, "I wanted to talk to you about that."

"No." Parva was despondent, "You've changed your mind."

"No." he assured her, "But I have something to ask you. I've wanted to for a while but quite frankly I was intimidated."

"Me?" Parva was delighted, "I intimidated you? This is priceless. Who can I tell?"

Daggit looked uncomfortable, "I'd rather not have anyone know."

"Of course." Parva said consolingly.

"Back to the question." Daggit insisted, "Parva, will you marry me?"

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Yes, I am." Daggit said firmly.

She was stunned, "I never thought… Of course I say yes!"

She threw the blanket aside and lunged over to him, embracing him, "I can't believe it."

"You'd better start." Daggit said as he squeezed her.

"When?" she asked as she pushed herself off of him.

"As soon as we can make preparations." Daggit revealed.

"I'll start planning as soon as we get back to Barrinor." she clapped her hands.

Daggit rose, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Do you have to go?" she wheedled.

"I have interrogations to conduct." Daggit said solemnly, "I can't shirk my responsibilities."

"Of course." she pouted.

He bent over and kissed her again, "I'll be back this evening."

"Looking forward to it." Parva confessed.

"Me too." Daggit unzipped the flap and exited the tent. He zipped it shut again. Parva laid down again and smiled beatifically. _I'm getting married._ she thought giddily.

* * *

"Let's begin." Sikorsky said for the examination lab's recorder, "The trauma to the neck is the most obvious cause of death. However, the mapping of the victim's anatomy will determine the exact cause of death. Begin scanning please."

Danan activated the table's scanners. A holographic image of the body appeared above it at chest level. Sikorsky took a moment to examine the image and then the body.

"Features of the scan image appear to correlate with the physical specimen. We will now begin to explore the interior of this being." Sikorsky related, "Please strip away the epidermal layer."

The image's skin disappeared. Ezexial's musculature was laid bare. Danan carefully rotated the image, revealing every cranny.

"The subject was very robust." Sikorsky recorded, "His musculature is highly developed. It is reasonable to assume that this would grant him superior reflexes and strength compared to the average humanoid species found in the Alpha Quadrant."

"There's a deviation at both wrists." Danan reported.

"Highlight." Sikorsky instructed.

Images of the wrists appeared above the original image. They were several times larger than Ezexial's wrists. Sikorsky frowned.

"Implants." she determined, "But they don't register with the sensors as being different than the implanted tissues."

"The Omicron are masters of biotechnology." Danan remarked, "They could easily construct a device out of his own cells."

"Isolate one of the implants." Sikorsky requested, "Let's see if we can determine what these things are for."

* * *

"Got it." Macen announced as he exited the Ready Room.

"So who won?" T'Kir asked as she inputted a series of commands.

"Parva nailed it." Macen revealed, "She was off by two days."

"How the _frinx _could she do that?" T'Kir demanded.

"I don't know but she gets a round trip, all expenses paid vacation for two to Risa." Macen grinned.

T'Kir muttered a particularly vile curse and Macen shook his head, "Listen with everything she's been through on this trip, I'm glad it's her. She could use a break."

T'Kir swivelled around to face him, "Speaking of Parva, what are we gonna do about her?"

"'We'?" Macen asked.

"Am I or am I not your business partner?" T'Kir huffed.

"You are." Macen allowed.

"So it's 'we'." she heatedly declared.

"She was injured in the line of duty." Macen reminded her, "It's only right that we keep her on the payroll and help her find a job that she can do."

"You think retraining is gonna stick?" T'Kir asked sceptically.

"She retained the first aid training the EMH gave her." Macen replied.

"She has the skill equivalent of a engineering tech." Macen said, "I've checked her qualification test scores. She's qualified to do basic maintenance. I'd keep her aboard as a rating but her heart can't take the stress of emergency situations."

"So we retrain her and give her a job on the ground." T'Kir decided.

"That was my thought." Macen admitted.

"Okay." T'Kir said happily, "I approve of this plan."

Macen bowed, "Thank you."

T'Kir tapped in a few more commands and the computer suddenly froze, "There! Everything is encrypted. No one's accessing our files now."

"C'mon, let's pay Joachim's team a visit." Macen suggested.

"Nope." T'Kir shook her head, "I have to find Hannah. Girl talk."

"You just want the gory details." Macen accused.

"Of course." T'Kir called the lift, "See ya."

The doors opened and T'Kir stepped in. As the doors were closing, she blew him a kiss. Macen stood there shaking his head.

"She never ceases to amaze me." Macen muttered and walked over to the lift.

* * *

Radil was striding through the tent city on the way to the shuttle when Kort literally ran into her.

"I'm sorry." Kort stammered, "My apologies."

"Dammit Kort!" Radil shouted, "Stop falling all over yourself when I'm around."

"I'm sorry."

"And stop apologising all the time." Radil snapped.

"What do you want?" Kort demanded, "What do you want me to be?"

Radil sighed, "I want you to be you. I want you to find a woman that will accept and love you. I want you to raise fat babies and regale them with tales of your exploits with the SID and Outbound Ventures." Radil listed, "Most of all, I want us to go our separate ways. What we had was fun and it was what we both needed at the time but our needs have changed. I want us to remain friends but if that's not possible we can at least be comrades in arms. Above all else, I want you to be happy."

Kort digested this, "You are right. I haven't been true to myself. I must retain my honour above all else."

"Then do that." Radil urged, "My demands and needs will only prevent you from achieving that."

"You are wise." Kort commented, "You are a good…friend."

"Let's leave it that way and grow from the experience." Radil suggested.

Kort slowly nodded, "Yes. As Dracas would say, 'It will be done'."

Radil chuckled, "What do you think of our new, intrepid teammate and Chief Engineer?"

"Macen seems certain of him." Kort replied, "That's all that matters."

"Hmmm." Radil pondered this, "I'm still going to watch him. His loyalties are with his Emperor not with us."

"Perhaps." Kort allowed, "Loyalties change. Look at Grace or yourself."

"Me?' Radil protested, "I was a mercenary. Macen hired me."

"But you've stayed throughout all our trials." Kort countered, "You've developed a sense of loyalty and even affection for your teammates."

"Maybe." Radil conceded, "But don't tell anyone."

"I won't." Kort promised.

"Your word as a warrior." Radil insisted.

"I pledge my silence upon my honour." Kort vowed.

"All right." Radil nodded decisively, "I'm on my way to the shuttle. I'll see you later."

"Thank you." Kort said.

"For what?" Radil was getting impatient.

"For caring."

Radil frowned, "Just don't tell anyone."

"Of course." Kort smiled, "Hurry. You don't want to miss your shuttle."

Radil walked away then turned, "Anyone. Understand?"

Kort laughed and waved her on. As she turned Kort went on his way. He felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. _What you have been feeling has been obsession not love._ he counselled himself. Now he could finally stop the madness before it consumed him.

* * *

Danan and Sikorsky exited the lab. Danan wiped her brow.

"I'm glad that's over. All this biological sciences _shuk_ is beyond me."

Sikorsky smiled, "Not so. You have the instincts for it. You found those implants, remember? I missed them."

"You would have noticed them." Danan assured her, "How did you know they were implants as soon as you saw them?"

"The scarring of the muscle tissue." Sikorsky explained, "It wouldn't have been there if it was a natural growth."

"Nasty bit of engineering." Danan observed, "Those stingers delivered the most lethal venom I've heard of."

"It was similar to the VX gas developed in the 20th century." Sikorsky went into lecture mode, "VX was an aerosol and this was an aqueous variant but the base chemistry was the same."

"It's no wonder he was trying grab Brin." Danan remarked.

"He wouldn't have lived for more than sixty seconds if he'd been caught." Sikorsky opined. She scrutinised Danan for a moment then spoke, "You still care for him."

"Who?"

"Commander Macen." Sikorsky said, "Are you still in love with him?"

"I thought I was but the same problem existed as before when I broke it off with him." Danan revealed.

"T'Kir." Sikorsky deduced.

"Got it in one." Danan wore a wry smile.

"That must have been painful." Sikorsky empathised.

"For a while but time heals and all that." Danan remarked, "Now I'm exploring new options."

"Sounds good." Sikorsky replied.

"It's confusing." Danan admitted, "I've got eight lifetimes worth of experience and I still am not sure how I feel."

"You may have the collected memories of eight other individuals that lived full lives but Lisea is still a relatively young woman. Give it time."

Danan's smile widened, "Sounds like something I said recently."

"Listen to yourself." Sikorsky suggested.

"Easier said than done." Danan complained.

"Isn't it the truth?" Sikorsky asked.

"Well, what now?" Danan enquired.

"How about a snack?" Sikorsky suggested, "Working with corpses always works up my appetite."

"That's slightly morbid."

Sikorsky frowned, "Think of it as comfort food."

"I could handle that." Danan agreed.

"The Mess is this way." Sikorsky jerked her thumb in the appropriate direction.

"Lead on."


	37. Chapter 37

49

Seated before a portable comm unit set up on a table erected near the medical tent, Macen talked to a sceptical looking Scipio, "Yes. When Admiral Johnson extends an invitation for you to join him I want you to do it."

"And why is this?" Scipio still looked doubtful.

"Johnson's going to make several proposals. You need to evaluate them in terms of the security and prosperity of Magna Roma. Present them to Emperor Alaric if you find them acceptable."

Scipio pondered this for a moment and then nodded, "Very well. It will be done as you say."

"That's all I ask." Macen assured him.

"If that is all?" Macen nodded in answer to Scipio's question, "Scipio out."

"Having fun?" he heard T'Kir's jubilant voice ask.

Macen turned and T'Kir was approaching him. She wore a happy, victorious smile. She came to stand behind him.

"Found what you were after?" Macen enquired.

"Oh yeah." T'Kir's smile widened.

"Without revealing any details, what is the situation?"

"Without giving anything away, let's just say she's in for a fun ride." T'Kir shared, "He knows what to say and when to say it. He seems utterly sincere and he can shag like a rhino."

"That was slightly more information then I required." Macen wore a wry grin.

"Feeling inadequate?" T'Kir teased.

"You'll let me know when I am." Macen replied, "Until then I'll be content in my delusional self confidence."

"No worries." she assured him and bent to kiss him, "I'm well satisfied."

T'Kir planted her fists on her hips, "Now d'you have another call to make or are you gonna hog the transceiver all day?"

Macen rose and ushered her to her seat, "Be my guest."

"Thank you." T'Kir said, "Now piss off."

Macen wore a lopsided grin, "As you command, milady."

Macen strolled off and T'Kir activated the comm unit, "T'Kir to _Intrepid_."

There was a pause then McKinley's face appeared, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'd like to come aboard and get a haircut." T'Kir revealed.

"Your hair looks short enough already." McKinley opined.

"Trust me." T'Kir grinned, "I have a plan."

"Suit yourself. I'll alert the Transporter Room."

"Thanks. T'Kir out."

* * *

"I don't have to say anything." Ron Peters declared.

"That's true." Delaney replied from across the table set up in the conference room being used for the interrogations, "But you'll still be charged and the evidence points towards your being involved in this conspiracy."

"You can try and pin it on me." Peters remained defiant, "But my lawyer will chew these charges apart."

"Commander?" Daggit spoke, "Perhaps if you'd step outside for a moment?"

Delaney looked from Daggit to Radil. Both were preternaturally calm. It disturbed him. Both of these people were capable of incredible violence when the situation called for it and they were at their calmest in the heat of battle.

"I don't think…" Delaney began to protest.

"Commander." Daggit's tone was firmer, "This is primarily a SID investigation. We are cooperating with Starfleet but we retain jurisdiction. Don't force me to go over your head."

Anger washed through Delaney. The threat was implicit. He slowly rose.

"I'll be reporting any violations of this man's rights."

"You do that." Daggit said reasonably, "I promise we'll be gentle."

Disgruntled, Delaney exited the room. Daggit took Delaney's place. He levelled his gaze at Peters and began to speak softly.

"I'm not Starfleet." Daggit informed Peters, "I'm an officer of Outbound Ventures. You tasked Iotian ships to kill us and over one hundred of our fellow employees. You levelled our headquarters on the ground and crippled the remainder of our forces."

"I didn't do that." Peters declared.

"You processed the orders from your corporate executives that unleashed these forces and created these events." Daggit's voice retained its firm quietness, "Do you think I give a damn about what level of involvement you've had?"

"I don't think…"

"Shut up." Daggit said with iron resolution, "I'll tell you what I'll do if you don't cooperate. I'll begin with your fingers…"

* * *

Delaney had been standing outside for five minutes when the door to the conference room opened and revealed Daggit, "He'll talk now."

"What did you do?" Delaney demanded.

Daggit shrugged, "I talked to him."

Delaney squeezed past Daggit and took a look. Peters was white and sweating but he seemed unharmed. Radil was still placidly keeping a careful eye on Peters, alert to every movement the man made.

"You're certain he'll talk?" Delaney asked, still focused on the obviously terrified suspect.

"He's dying to confess." Daggit smiled thinly. It wasn't a pleasant sight.

* * *

"Lees!" Riker called out and jogged over to her position, "How'd the autopsy go?"

"Well enough." Danan replied, "I'm still lacklustre in the biological arena but I helped. Andreja did all the real work."

"Any exploitable weaknesses revealed?" Riker wondered.

"No." Danan shook her head, "Nothing beyond the norm of what we're used to. They're highly mineralised. They're almost a silicate lifeform but they share many traits with mammalian humanoids and saurians."

"Where are you headed?" Riker asked.

"I'm trying to find Brin." Danan confessed, "I want to report our findings."

"Want to do lunch afterwards?"

"Sure." Danan nodded, "Sounds good."

Riker grinned, "I'll see you then."

Riker walked off and Danan felt as confused as ever. She was fond of Tom and he was certainly attractive but did their affair have a chance of becoming a true romance? _Patience, _she told herself, _heed your own advice._ Resolved not to worry about it for now, she continued on her way, looking for Macen.

* * *

"So the warp core is shut down and the impulse reactor is being powered down even as we speak?" Macen asked.

Dracas nodded, "In twenty minutes, the entire ship will be lifeless. The salvage team will find her ready for towing."

"_If _they can lift her out of the atmosphere." Macen reminded Dracas, "Everything hinges upon that."

"It would be a shame to scuttle her." Dracas opined, "She seems to be a valiant vessel."

"We've barely begun to know her." Macen said wistfully.

"You fear she will not be recovered." it wasn't a question.

Macen nodded, "This is my dream command. I was actually offered command of a _Nova_-class ship once before. Of course, it was assigned to Starfleet Intelligence and relegated to information gathering rather than scientific inquiry. I turned it down in order to infiltrate the Maquis. Life twisted after that. I never thought I'd get another opportunity to command a ship like this."

Dracas wore a wry smile, "I know about unexpected events."

Macen silently urged him to speak and Dracas shrugged, "I worked on the construction of the _Banner_-class ships. I managed the orbital yards and tackled the most difficult engineering problems. Actually, the technology behind the _Banners_ isn't terribly different than that of the _Obsidian_. That was why I easily passed your qualification exams."

"I'd wondered." Macen confessed.

Dracas chuckled, "I would to if a neo-barbarian suddenly mastered my tech base."

"So what happened to managing the fleet yards?" Macen asked, "You sound as though you were happy there."

"I was content." Dracas clarified, "I would have stayed there indefinitely. The Emperor had other plans for me. I assigned as Chief Engineer and 1st Officer of a _Banner_-class ship. The _Javelin _to be precise."

"And?"

"The Emperor desired to prove that a clone was as capable as any other officer in the fleet." Dracas said sadly, "The legionnaires, however, had difficulty obeying an engineer. When they discovered that I am a clone, they revolted. They would not follow a copy of a man."

"You'll note that you don't have that problem here." Macen pointed out, "Our culture doesn't care how a sentient came to be, they're still a sentient."

"It is appreciated." Dracas replied, "I find it very enlightened."

"We try." Macen grinned.

A flicker of a smile passed across Dracas' face, "There is much that the Federation could teach the Empire. Although, there is much that your Federation could learn from Rome."

"I'm sure that's true." Macen agreed, "That's what cultural exchanges are about. We can always learn something new from our neighbour."

"Magna Roma is hardly a 'neighbour'." Dracas frowned.

"In interstellar terms, we're all becoming neighbours." Macen observed.

"Brin?" Danan's voice interrupted.

"`Lo Lees." Macen replied.

"I need to talk to you." Danan insisted, "We've completed Ezexial's autopsy and I have to report our findings."

"I think we're done here." Macen informed Dracas. The Roman nodded and strode off. Macen turned to face Danan.

"Let's get something to drink." he suggested.

"I'm fine." Danan shook her head.

"It wasn't a request, Lees." Macen revealed.

Macen led Danan back towards the picnic tables. He stopped at the portable replicators arranged stocked atop one another.

"Want anything?" he asked.

"I'll take a synthale, a port if you please."

Macen's eyebrow quirked, "This must be bad."

"It could be better." Danan replied.

Macen ordered her drink and handed it to her. He mustered up a coffee for himself. Next, he guided her to an empty table. As they sat down Macen smiled.

"Now what has you rattled?" he asked.

She took a pull from her glass then leaned forward, "Brin, according to all our known biological surveys, the Omicrons shouldn't exist."

Macen frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Their biology is too perfect." Danan answered, "It balances disparate elements to easily. Genetic flaws are almost unseen. We tried to take into account that the Omicron had had two hundred thousand years in which to toy with their own biology on a cellular level, after all, they do seem to have mastered the art of biotech."

"But you don't think these attributes are the result of their own efforts at improvement." Macen surmised.

"The altered elements show. They utilised implants for most of their alterations. We saw the results of their efforts to improve themselves." Danan reminded him, "Remember the Lowlies?"

"You have a point." Macen allowed, "But where does that leave us?"

"Brin, the Omicron have ten base pairs in their genes." Danan looked scared, "No lifeform in known space has ten base pairs. The average humanoid has four. A few species have been discovered with six but _ten_ is unheard of. It's no wonder they reacted so easily to the ultra matter."

"So, in your estimate, what does this point to?" Macen enquired.

Danan leaned back and looked uncomfortable, "Ten base pairs give them the ability to evolve in months instead of tens of thousands of years. Their genome is too perfect. The only comparison we can draw is with the Jem'Hadar. That has some nasty implications."

"You're saying they may have been created, not naturally developed." Macen deduced.

"That's exactly the conclusion Andreja and I reached." Danan said emphatically, "That's why I'm sweating. _Someone _created these monsters. If they're still out there somewhere, we may not stand a chance even _with_ the Kelvans on our side."

"Have you filed a report?" Macen asked.

Danan nodded, "Andreja and I dictated a joint report and attached all our finding to it. We sent it to Starfleet Intelligence and Starfleet Medical. They can wrestle with it for a while."

Macen stared off into the distance for a moment and then sighed, "Good job, Lees. I know you were out of your element so the effort is appreciated."

"What do you think of our conclusions?" Danan wondered.

"I'll worry about godlike aliens when we encounter them." Macen shook his head, "I _hate _godlike aliens."

"Some viewed the Borg the same way when we first encountered them." Danan remarked, "Then we discovered their weaknesses."

"I hate them too." Macen grumped.

Danan smiled, "Of course you do. Poor dear."

Macen rolled his eyes, "I'm not an emotional cripple. You don't have to nurture my feelings."

"I know." Danna assured him, "But it was the perfect opportunity to fire a shot across your bow."

Macen grunted, "Maybe."

"Have I told you how much I appreciate you?" Danan suddenly asked.

"What?" Macen was confused.

"I'm talking about us." Danan explained, "We could have hated each other after we broke up but you allowed me to come back and life has been good ever since. There isn't any awkwardness. Even T'Kir is fine with the situation."

"And that worried you?"

Danan nodded, "It did at first but everything slid into place over time."

"And now you're wondering whether or not you're burgeoning relationship with Tom will prove to be more than a recreational distraction?"

"Something like that." Danan admitted.

"To be honest, I don't think Tom's ready for that." Macen confided, "He thinks he is. He was with Jamie but he hasn't put her death behind him yet. That's why he came on so strongly at first."

Danan gaped, "How do you know that?"

"Lees," Macen said wearily, "I'm an empath. My wife is a telepath _and _one of the ship's biggest snoops. I couldn't possibly avoid knowing."

Danan frowned, "I thought she was past casually probing other people's minds."

"Surface thoughts broadcast like a loudspeaker." Macen explained, "They're like your emotions right now. They can't be ignored."

"So you say." Danan griped.

Macen rolled his eyes, "It happens. Deal with it."

Danan took another swig of her drink, "She'd better not run around telling everyone what I'm thinking."

"She only tells me." Macen assured her then twisted his lips into a rueful expression, "And Hannah. But that's it. We're the inner circle."

Danan sighed, "So where is the little mindwitch?"

Macen shrugged, "She's aboard the _Intrepid_. She didn't tell me why."

"Probably trolling for new victims." Danan grumbled.

"Lees!" Macen accused.

"I know, I know, deal with it."

* * *

T'Kir looked at herself in the mirror. She radiantly smiled. The results of her "cut" exceeded her expectations.

T'Kir brushed her raven hair. It now cascaded a third of the way down her back. She hadn't dared wear it this long since she was in the Maquis and then she'd totally lost control of her telepathy. She'd worn it short after that. She'd recently worn it at shoulder length but it wasn't as luxurious.

"Fetching look." Johnson grinned from the salon's entrance.

T'Kir curtsied, "Thank you. Hold your applause."

"It's a pretty drastic change." Johnson observed, "Why now?"

T'Kir shrugged, "It's almost a return to more innocent days. I wore my hair like this for years before I joined the Maquis. The style lasted for a few years into the struggle but then I had to cut it. I've always meant to grow it back. Now I can."

Johnson smiled, "It's good that you're happy."

T'Kir frowned as she tied a scarf around her head to keep her hair out of her eyes, "But you're not."

"I just read a very disturbing report prepared by Dr. Sikorsky and your Lisea Danan. It has grave portends."

"So why tell me?" T'Kir wondered, "This is Brin's arena."

"I'm sure he already knows the contents of the report." Johnson said, "Please relay a message for me. The contents of the report have been classified at the highest level. He's to discuss it with no one."

"We're telepathically bonded." T'Kir reminded him, "I'm gonna learn what it's all about."

"You're an exception." Johnson informed her, "The _only _one. Macen and Danan are sworn to secrecy."

T'Kir frowned, "So why have me deliver this little message? You're an Admiral, just order him to keep quiet."

Johnson sighed, "And how long would he listen? Brin barely tolerates authority as it is. Imagine his reaction when I order him to suppress what may be the greatest discovery in the quadrant."

"Yeah." T'Kir grinned, "There'd be trouble."

"So you see my point."

T'Kir smiled slyly, "Don't worry. I'll cushion the blow."

"Thank you." Johnson said gratefully, "He'll listen to you at least."

"You seem distracted." T'Kir observed.

"I'm on my way to meet with Admiral Scipio." Johnson divulged.

T'Kir laughed, "Good luck. The man would kill you without a qualm if someone ordered him to and he thinks Brin's a god."

Johnson wore a rueful smile, "I have to go. Duty calls and all that."

T'Kir was still chuckling as he left. With a bright smile she thanked the stylist and exited the salon. She headed for the transporter wondering how Macen would react to the change.

* * *

"Ahem." T'Kir cleared her throat as Macen conferred with Daggit.

"And most of them are giving up information on the various orders that came from the Board of Directors?" Macen asked.

"Yes. They're practically falling over themselves in a rush to cooperate." Daggit reported.

T'Kir whistled, "Hey you."

Macen turned and his eyes went wide, "Oh wow."

"You like?" T'Kir spread her arms wide.

"You're stunning." Macen admitted, "But why?"

"I've always wanted to go back to this style." T'Kir revealed, "I had a chance so I took it."

"You're beautiful." Macen verbally applauded.

"Does this mean you didn't like my previous haircuts?" T'Kir asked accusingly.

"No." Macen insisted, "You were gorgeous then. You're gorgeous now. Whatever makes you happy is what counts. I'm just lucky to have the chance to appreciate you."

T'Kir beamed, "You say the nicest things. And the best part is that you mean them. So, are you busy?"

"We were wrapping things up when you came along." Macen answered.

"Well, carry on." T'Kir instructed, "I have to show Hannah."

T'Kir traipsed along and Daggit whistled, "Quite the difference."

"That's how she looked when I met her." Macen disclosed, "I was immediately attracted to her even back then."

"But you were involved with Lisea." Daggit replied.

"You can still find someone attractive while you're dating someone else. I didn't ogle her or spend my days consumed with desire." Macen confessed, "I accepted my attraction and my situation and moved on from there."

"Yet in the end you ended up with T'Kir not Lisea." Daggit pointed out.

A rueful smile came to Macen's lips, "It seems I was more smitten than I led myself to believe. Lees recognised that. It's why she let me go."

"She's an insightful woman." Daggit conceded, "We're lucky to have her on the team."

"Yes, we are." Macen agreed, "Now tell me what Radil is doing."

"She's finishing up the interrogations with Delaney."

"Fates help him." Macen invoked.


	38. Chapter 38

63

In the middle of the planetary night the Romans boarded their shuttles and lifted off. An hour later, the Roman ships broke orbit. The three Roman cruisers rendezvoused near the dreadnought and exited the system. They were headed home.

Hours later, near the planetary dawn, the _USS Sutherland _and the _USS Nighthawk_ arrived. The _Steamrunner _–class _Nighthawk _came to position next to the dreadnought while the_ Nebula_-class _Sutherland_ slipped into orbit. The gamma shift Engineering, Security, Bridge crew and XO beamed aboard the dreadnought and relieved Striker and Caplan's forces. The _Sutherland _transported Security teams to the surface.

Relief forces also beamed to the surface to assist the Outbound Ventures in packing up and stowing their refugee centre. The Solarian commandos were also transferred into Starfleet's custody. Macen and the SID team were slated to leave Thrandice on the _Paladin_. During a pause in the coordination effort Riker turned to Macen.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to ride back to Barrinor with the crew." Riker said, "They need a familiar face of authority right now."

Macen grinned, "And you say you're not command potential."

"I know I am." Riker replied confidently, "I'm just not seasoned yet."

"Keep doing this and you will be." Macen assured him.

"I know." Riker agreed, "Until then, I'll do my current duties to the best of my ability."

"No one can ask for more." Macen said.

Runners began announcing the imminent departure of the stranded crew. Riker grinned.

"That's my cue. See you around, Brin."

"See you soon. Tell Christine we'll deal with the rebuilding effort as soon as we get back." Macen instructed.

"I will." Riker called as he walked away. He waved goodbye and purposefully continued on his way.

"Problem?" T'Kir asked from behind Macen.

Macen turned, still grinning happily, "Nope. Everything is right."

"Except for the fact that our starship is crashed next to us." T'Kir remarked dryly.

"There's always something." Macen brushed the comment aside

"C'mon," T'Kir tugged at his arm, "Johnson and McKinley beamed down to say goodbye."

"What about Delaney?" Macen wondered.

"He and Hannah are having a moment by the shuttle." T'Kir revealed.

"Good for them." Macen said brightly. The pair strolled over to where Johnson and McKinley were talking with the rest of the team, including Parva.

"So isn't your presence a violation of some regulation?" Macen asked.

McKinley shrugged, "If it is, who cares? Certain rules need to be broken from time to time."

"Tell that to Admiral Drake." Macen retorted, "Please!"

"We just came down to wish all of you goodbye." McKinley said, "As always, our meeting has been interesting."

Macen grinned, "We aim to exceed expectations."

"Which means we'll get into more trouble next time." T'Kir clarified.

"Figures." McKinley grimaced.

Johnson joined the conversation, "What's the problem?"

"They're already planning their next caper." McKinley explained.

"Oh, must be good." Johnson replied.

"Don't ask."

Johnson grinned, "Can't wait."

"Trust me, we'll have the Council abuzz." Macen promised.

"Speaking of the Council," Johnson looked tired, "I just received a message from Ross. He's stepped down and Jellico has resumed his seat on the Council of 5."

Macen rolled his eyes, "Here we go again."

"You might want to keep that in mind during your next assignment." Johnson advised.

"Gee thanks." Macen remarked, "By the way, pretty sneaky recruiting T'Kir to deliver your bad news."

Johnson shrugged, "Just thought it would go down easier."

"Yeah. It did." Macen admitted ruefully.

"Good." Johnson smiled.

"All right. It's time to go." Macen decided, "If we can pull our pilot away from your Tactical Officer that is."

Johnson and McKinley laughed, "That could take awhile."

* * *

"I have to go, Ian." Grace said sadly.

"I wish you didn't have to." Delaney admitted and then brightened, "You could always transfer. Lt. Liefers would love to have you under her command."

"Ian, I outrank her." Grace reprimanded him.

"Well," Delaney looked for a bright spot, "there's always subspace. We grew closer through our messages. We can keep up with it."

"I can always put in for a vacation the next time you're on leave." Grace suggested, "We could always go hang gliding on Asgard like we've talked about."

Delaney grinned, "It's a date."

Delaney moved forward and lifted her chin, he kissed her. Grace wrapped her arms around him while he held her waist. It was a lingering kiss and they slowly parted. Cheers and clapping met their efforts.

Grace blushed, "It seems we have an audience."

"Always." Delaney grinned ruefully.

"It's time." Grace insisted.

"Until next time." Delaney said and made for Johnson and McKinley. The SID team joined Grace at the shuttle. They all climbed aboard. Grace paused, waved to Delaney and then climbed aboard last.

* * *

The hatch sealed and the shuttle's engines hummed as they came to life. Grace ran her pre-flight and then activated the antigrav when her diagnostics read green across the board. The shuttle lifted one hundred metres above everyone's head and the impulse engine flared to life. The shuttle hurried off, climbing into the atmosphere, leaving the planet's gravity well behind.

"Well, they're off." Johnson remarked.

"Yeah." Delaney replied wistfully.

Johnson and McKinley exchanged knowing glances. They knew when to leave a topic alone. Delaney had to find his own balance. McKinley was confident that he would.

He tapped his comm badge, "McKinley to _Intrepid_."

"_Intrepid _here."

"Three to beam up."

"The transporter room will be advised, out."

* * *

Macen left his seat and came up behind Grace, "Hannah, you said that you had ideas on how to track down Harry Mudd."

"Yeah." Grace nodded, "He has to have gone to Paradine. It's the closest shipyard _slash_ broker. It's one of the largest ship markets in the quadrant."

"How far is it?"

"We could get there in a day and half if we pushed it."

"Push it." Macen instructed, "I want to get there before Mudd sells the _Corsair_."

"Yes sir." Grace replied brightly.

* * *

The Paradine system contained a sprawling shipyard near its primary asteroid belt. Closer to the M-class planet that dominated the system, there was a large series of drydocks. Used spacecraft for sale berthed here. On the planet's surface resided a huge shuttle port. It was the size of many cities and all of the vehicles were for sale.

Mudd had obtained accommodations and was busy dressing. He'd finally found a buyer for the runabout he's stolen from the _Obsidian_. The purchaser was a retiring cargo master. He was willing to trade Mudd his transport for the runabout.

Mudd fully intended to resume his principle career as a legitimate freight hauler and occasional smuggler. Confidence games rarely paid off and besides, they'd grown boring. Mudd had finished dressing, combed his hair and cleaned his teeth and then made for the door. Today he was exchanging the key codes for the Cargo ship for the forged title on the runabout.

There was a loud clang on the door and Mudd froze. Several seconds ticked by and then there was a deafening explosion and the door crumpled and sailed across the room. Mudd dropped to a huddle on the floor. As the din of the explosion died down, Mudd rose to a kneeling posture and stared at the doorway.

Macen jumped in through the hole and aimed his phaser pistol at Mudd. Wearing a demented grin, he spoke, "Hi Harry! It seems you took something of mine."

Mudd began to calculate his chances of getting past Macen when T'Kir calmly strolled into the room. Her phaser was also drawn. Mudd held up his hands.

"All right." he said forlornly, "You've found me. I don't know how. I disabled the transponder."

"You didn't wipe the computer clean." T'Kir smiled, "There's a program that activates the comm system when triggered by a received code. It transmits a recognition code and then we track down the location of the ship."

"Show me where my runabout is Harry." Macen demanded.

"I'll do it in exchange for immunity." Mudd countered.

"Harry, I'll shoot you and find the ship myself before that happens." Macen declared, "Either way you'll be in custody."

Mudd sagged in defeat, "All right. I'll lead you to it. Just note it as cooperation with the authorities."

"Get up and put your hands behind your back." Macen instructed.

"Really!" Mudd protested, "The usual method of restraint is to place the hands forward. It's more comfortable that way."

"I don't care about your comfort." Macen replied, "We're attaching a leash to your binders this time. You aren't disappearing on us."

Mudd swore and placed his hands behind his back. Macen holstered his pistol and slipped the binders onto Mudd's wrist. He cinched them tight causing Mudd to wince. Next, he attached the steel cable that served as the leash.

"Move it." Macen nudged Mudd with his knee. They marched to T'Kir's position and she holstered her sidearm. She took hold of the leash and pushed Mudd out the door.

"You don't have to be so rough." Mudd exclaimed.

"You made everyone mad, Harry." Macen said scornfully, "We now have a vested interest in turning you in. It wasn't personal before but now it is."

"Can't you take a joke?" Mudd asked.

"It wasn't funny, Harry." Macen rebutted.

"At least one good thing has happened." Mudd said philosophically.

"And what's that?" T'Kir asked.

"Everyone is finally calling me Harry."

* * *

Mudd was stowed away in the _Corsair's _brig. Macen was seat at the OPS station and T'Kir was manning the helm. Macen activated the comm and called the _Paladin_.

"We're all set here, Hannah." Macen reported, "You're free to fly back to Barrinor."

"How long are you two going to be?" Grace wondered.

"It depends on how many reports Drake wants us to file." Macen sighed.

"We'll look for you." Grace promised, "Give T'Kir my love."

"Will do." Macen promised and cut the transmission.

"Hannah's sweet." T'Kir mused.

"She's a good kid." Macen remarked.

"Brin, she's hardly a 'kid' anymore." T'Kir retorted.

"T'Kir, compared to the two of us, they're all children." Macen explained.

"Okay." she allowed and then counselled, "But don't rub their noses in it."

"Never." Macen vowed.

* * *

The _Corsair _arrived at Earth nearly a week later. Mudd complained incessantly about the "abuses" being piled upon him. This was met with a universal, "Shut up, Harry."

"There it is." T'Kir announced as the Earth came into view.

Macen took his seat, "About time. I'm ready to go stir crazy."

"Tell me about it." T'Kir grumped.

Macen activated the comm system and contacted the SID headquarters. He arranged for landing rights at London's shuttleport. It took another several hours to reach the planet at sublight speeds. When their landing was accomplished, T'Kir popped the hatch. Outside, Starfleet Security waited to take custody of Mudd.

Mudd protested and screamed as he was hauled away to a lorry. Macen and T'Kir caught a bus and travelled to the public transporter system. They selected Reading as their destination.

* * *

Taking the time to walk across town, they finally reached the SID complex. Met at the foyer by Security officers, their identities were verified and they were given access to the building. Macen and T'Kir travelled up to the fifth floor of the twelve-story building and exited the turbolift. Before them stretched a row of glass enclosed offices. At the end of the row sat Ambril Delori.

The Admiral's aide smiled as Macen and T'Kir approached, "She's been waiting. Rather rabidly. It's murder on her blood pressure so be warned."

"Thanks." T'Kir remarked, "Now I know she can be easily tortured."

Ambril rolled her eyes and paged the Admiral, "Admiral, Commander Macen and T'Kir are here."

"It's about time." Drake said with relief, "Send them in."

The door to Drake's office opened and the Admiral shouted, "Get in here!"

Macen looked skyward, "Here we go."

Macen led T'Kir into the inner sanctum, "Hello Amanda."

"Hiya." T'Kir said cheerfully.

"Sit down." Drake said curtly.

"Hey!" T'Kir snapped, "We were nice to you Crabbypants. Cut us some slack. We've been cloistered in a runabout for a week now. Spare us the `tude"

Drake blinked in surprised. She closed her eyes and pinched her nose. With a deep breath she opened her eyes.

"You're right." Drake conceded, "I should be polite. The least we can expect is common courtesy."

"That's what I'm talkin' `bout." T'Kir huffed.

"But you've created absolute havoc for this department." Drake shared wearily, "I've got Alynna crawling up my ass as we speak."

"I heard about that." Macen informed her, "A sudden shift of allegiances."

"She's allowing Jellico's investigation of SID procedures and methods to proceed." Drake sighed, "He's going to be on a witch hunt."

"So what's new?" T'Kir asked.

"You have your commission again. You all do." Drake reminded them, "That means you're answerable to Starfleet regulations. They don't have co-ed cells on Jaros II."

"Is it too early to resign?" Macen asked.

Drake stared at him and Macen leaned forward, "I'm serious."

T'Kir shrugged, "I never wanted to be commissioned anyway."

"The Council would probably terminate your SID contract." Drake warned.

"I'll live." Macen said evenly, "I survived when it happened the last time."

Drake lowered her head and stared at her desk. She lifted her head and straightened her shoulders, "How can I help?"

"Field ops require flexibility." Macen replied, "Situations that aren't covered by regulations arise. I need the absolute authority to proceed on my judgement during those times."

"Jellico's investigation will probably kill any chance of that happening." Drake forecasted.

"Then get ready to say goodbye." Macen declared

"You'll really resign?"

"Give me a padd." Macen instructed.

"Yah. Me too." T'Kir piped up.

Drake sighed heavily and pulled out two padds from her desk, "I honestly don't know how this will affect your operational status."

"That's fine." Macen allowed, "I just want my ship repaired."

Drake nodded, "That was part of the agreement. It was damaged in the line of duty so it will be restored."

"Anything else?" Macen asked.

Drake activated the viewer to her left, "I thought you might like to see this."

The image came to life. It portrayed an office conference room. Men and women in stern business attire sat around an oval table. As a rather dour gentleman rose, the doors to the office slid open. Amanda Drake stood revealed. Armed Starfleet Security officers flanked her.

"What is the meaning of this?" the dour man asked in umbrage.

"I'm placing each and every one of you under arrest." Drake declared.

"This is preposterous." the man protested, "On what charges?"

"Conspiracy and murder." Drake explained, "You colluded with a foreign government to attack shipping convoys in order to pressure them to contract with you for your protective services. Most recently you tasked them to the assault and murder of members of a rival corporation."

"These charges have been revealed by your foreign partner, your own computerised records, and by testimony provided by your own employees." Drake continued, "Your collusion with the Iotians may be construed as espionage. These charges are being investigated. You also accepted a contract from a known enemy of the Federation. The Omicron Ezexial has been sought for terrorist acts and attacking a Starfleet investigations team. This may construe treason."

Drake's visage was unforgiving, "As you know, Federation law has become much sterner since our recent upheavals. The last two allegations are considered to be capital crimes. Your ultimate fate will be determined upon sentencing. God save you."

The image ended and Drake turned to face Macen and T'Kir, "That was taken from Solarian's internal security system."

"All I can say is that they'll still get off lightly." Macen remarked.

"We'll see." Drake replied, "They'll probably never set foot off a penal colony again."

Macen sighed, "That's something at least."

They sat in silence as Macen and T'Kir filled out their resignations. Once they finished, they handed the padds back to Drake.

"Dammit Brin," Drake urged, "we can't afford to lose you. Especially not now."

"Insure that my contract isn't terminated and you won't have to worry." Macen replied.

"I guess there isn't anything left to be said." Drake said in resignation.

"Nope." Macen agreed.

"How long are you staying?" Drake enquired.

"A day or two." Macen answered, "We'll catch some of London's sights and head back to Barrinor."

"Take care, both of you." Drake implored.

"Don't we always?" T'Kir remarked with a grin.

"We'll see you, Amanda." Macen said and left.

* * *

Walking the streets of London, T'Kir turned to Macen, "I'm starving."

"Want some pub grub?" he asked.

"I want to go somewhere nice." T'Kir declared, "I want to be pampered."

Macen smiled, "Your wish is my command."

"I also want to stay somewhere nice." T'Kir insisted.

"Easy enough." Macen agreed.

"And I want to go to the theatre."

"Which show?"

"How should I know? I just got here."

"Let's start with food." Macen suggested and stopped at a public information terminal. He tapped in several search parameters and the results appeared almost instantly. He downloaded the information to his padd and handed it to T'Kir.

"Pick one."

She scrolled through list and then grew excited. Handing the padd back to him she said, "This one."

"We need to catch a bus." Macen decided.

"Goody!" T'Kir clapped her hands, "And the hotel has to have room service."

"No replicators?" Macen asked.

"Pampered." T'Kir insisted, "That means having every whim indulged and catered to."

"Fates." Macen muttered, "We're in for an extravagant two days."

"You betcha lover, now c'mon. The bus is here." T'Kir excitedly tugged on Macen's arm. They boarded the bus and it whisked them away to indulgent adventures.


End file.
